


How to Catch a Shooting Star

by Ayreria



Series: The Fourth Age [1]
Category: Flight Rising
Genre: Alternate Universe - Future, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Established Relationship, Eventual Happy Ending, Family, Loads and Loads of Characters - Freeform, Multi, Mythology Gags, Romance, Self-Discovery, Slow Build, Violence, as canon as possible, deities as awkward teenagers in high school, what more could you want
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-14
Updated: 2015-12-20
Packaged: 2018-03-10 20:44:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 33,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3302861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ayreria/pseuds/Ayreria
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sirius Castor is an ordinary high school student living in the small town of Sworncliff, California with his grandfather. A first-year at the prestigious World’s Pillar Preparatory Academy, he’s easily one of the most intelligent, if but eccentric, students in his class. However, the only thing he wants to do in life is to study and gaze at the stars in the night sky. If he could survive high school and come to terms with his growing crush on his best friend, then he could live his life in peace and harmony.</p><p>Naturally, things don’t turn out as planned.</p><p>Turns out, he, his friends, and some people he has never even met, are the Eleven incarnated, and his supposed grandfather is actually one of the original magi of Sornieth. And the Shade, who has been locked out of the planet for a few millennia, has finally made a crack in the Barrier of the World and seeks to kill all the deities who are stopping it from devouring the Earth. Now he and his new companions must battle the fragments of the Shade being sent through the breach, recover their memories and powers, and save the world from annihilation all while juggling the pressures of formal education.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. We Are But a Fragment

**Author's Note:**

> First of all, I would like to give a big thanks to Sugarfrost, the fantastic creator of the [forum thread](http://www1.flightrising.com/forums/frd/1683015/) this AU is based off of, and Steex, my awesome partner-in-crime who is way better at English than I am.
> 
> Secondly, the POV will be following two specific characters that will flip between chapters, one being the center of every even numbered chapter and one for every odd. You'll understand who they are when you read them. This format will be very rigid and will only break on very special occasions or in small sections inside chapters to avoid confusion.
> 
> If you want to screech with me about fandoms, you can find me [here](http://ayreri.tumblr.com/) at my Tumblr.
> 
> Without further rambling, I really hope you do enjoy this story.

_Sweat trickled down the side of his brow. Deep blue eyes darted left and right, searching for something,_ anything _, to latch on to, but darkness dominated his surroundings. The young boy became nervous and tried lifting his arms, but his body was no longer his to control._ Where am I? _, he wondered. A child of a meagre five years, he was most certainly not old enough to be alone._ What is happening? _, asked the boy, but the only sound to be heard was a constant dripping. The last thing he remembers was climbing into bed after a long day at school. He wanted to call out for his mother, or his father, or even that mean old lady Marie, but nothing would leave his lips. He waited in silence until the void around him began to take shape. The misty fog above him formed a spiraling dome holding up an entire ocean of life while the dark sea around him crafted itself into twisting patterns that resembled roaring tides and rushing currents, and before him was an elevated stone fountain illuminated in violet light, filled with a pool of stars._

_Feeling cool fluid splash at his feet, the boy shivered, realizing that he could once more. The floor was covered in water and was slowly rising to meet his knees. The child quickly trotted up the steps to escape the increasing levels and approached the fountain to find that it was not as tall as it had appeared from a distance. Unable to hide his curiosity, he peered into the basin to watch the cosmic liquid swirl, the glittering stars collecting in the middle. With a flash, the pool turned white and began to fade into an image.  The boy’s mind was consumed._  
  
 _He could see a large blue circle covered with rough green structures and wispy white clouds. He recognized this shape to be the Earth, the planet that he lived on. What he didn’t recognize what the large black mass directly next to it, slowly enveloping the globe with its elongated form. Little by little, the planet was consumed, leaving only a small shard to mark its former existence. The young child, while not knowing what it was, felt a chill up his spine and backed away from the fountain. There was something very wrong about the vision and, in the back of his mind, a growling voice roared in a language he did not understand. Unfortunately, in his daze, the boy stepped too far back, causing his foot to slip off the platform and his small body to fall into the rising waters, embracing the child in its icy grasp._

* * *

“Sirius Castor, please pay attention.”

With a small snort, a slender teenaged boy shook his drowsy head and lifted his grey eyes to meet the disapproving scowl of his biology teacher, Mrs. Lyffe. Momentarily confused, he recalled that it was the last period of the school day, and he had fallen asleep during one of the many lectures his teacher had about the complexity of microorganisms, which was odd since he usually only does so in English and History.

“Sorry, Mrs. Lyffe,” muttered Sirius, his throat dry. “But we just came back from break-”

“No excuses, Mr. Castor.” Interrupted Mrs. Lyffe. “We may be returning from Thanksgiving holidays, but I expect you and everybody else to work just as well as before.” Sharply turning away from his desk, she marched up to the front of the room, her heels clicking behind her.

"Alright, everyone, tonight's homework begins on page 667 of the textbook. As usual, answer all the review questions, including the short answer, on a separate piece of paper. This will be due on Friday." The sharp ring of the final bell filled the room. "Dismissed!"

Awkwardly gathering up his belongings, Sirius swept his long brown hair over his shoulder, wiped his glasses, and began to follow rest of the class out of the room, but he was stopped by his teacher, her voice echoing his name. When he turned to look at her, he noticed that her normally disgruntled visage was replaced with an expression of concern.

He didn't really know much about Mrs. Lyffe other than that she records among the students as the strictest teacher in the school. He had heard from his upperclassmen that she is purportedly much kinder this year compared to the days before, but Sirius had found that hard to believe.

“Mr. Castor, are you feeling well? Sleeping in class is prohibited. Have you gotten enough over the vacation?” She inquired.

“I’m fine.” He lied. “I’m just a little tired, that’s all.” In truth, he was exhausted. He had not slept a wink last night because he was busy helping his elderly grandfather with some unusually heavy shipments. His grandfather is the oldest citizen in Sworncliff, California and had owned a bookshop in the poorer end of town for as long as he could remember. He was also his legal guardian, taking Sirius in after his parents died when he was young. Despite being an old man, he is very kind and somewhat eccentric, and he always had supported him in any of his ventures.

Becoming complacent, she waved at him to leave after warning him to go see the nurse if he feels any signs of illness. Nodding back, he stepped out of the room and made way to the lecture hall for the Model United Nations meeting. At World's Pillar Preparatory Academy, students are offered numerous choices of scheduled classes and after-school activities to ensure that every child has the opportunity to learn and prepare for their future no matter what it may be. For a nervous freshman like him, the MUN team would provide experience with dealing with public speaking and becoming more aware of world events, which he was severely lacking in.

Halfway to the conference room, a familiar musical voice called out his name from him, causing his heart to skip a beat.

“Hey, Pinky, wait up!”

Bounding down the hall was Alan Sky, a tall figure with glowing tan skin and soft black hair. Alan was known throughout the school as the stunning only child of action actor Winston Sky and famous singer Feng Yun. Combined with his melodic speech, charming personality, and overall attractiveness, he had become the most popular student in the eleventh grade, if not the entire student body.

The two met over the summer vacation at Focal Point, the old observatory that sat on a windy hill at the edge of town. He and his grandfather used to pay it visits in the past, but it had fallen into disrepair. He still frequents it often without his grandfather to watch the clouds fly by or to stargaze on clear nights. One day, he found that he was not alone. The junior was found on the hill flying kites he had built, having recently discovered that the constant winds around the observatory made it the perfect location for testing. Neither of them expected company at the time since the building was so old and unknown, but they quickly became close friends due to similar interests and often met with each other even after the holidays were over, talking about skies and dreams. Sirius believes that he can safely call Alan his best friend and the latter vice versa.

It didn’t take very long for Alan to catch up to him; his long legs practically gliding across the floor. Stopping only a few feet away, the height difference between the two students became increasingly pronounced. Sirius turned around and drew his eyes up to meet the boy.

“Oh, hey Alan. Back from Vegas already?” Sirius greeted, ignoring the reference to the current color of his wardrobe.

Beaming, Alan said cheerfully, “Pinky! Yeah, it was fun, but I kind of missed everybody. The holiday was so short, I barely feel any different.” Alan quickly glanced over his shoulder, as if to check if anyone was following him, before looking back at Sirius. “Say, where are you going? I’m free this afternoon, and I need something to do.”

As tired as he was, a small smile emerged onto his own face, the optimism radiating from Alan becoming infectious. Sirius had always felt curiously happier whenever he was around his friend, like rays of sunshine on a stormy day. Noticing he had been staring silently at Alan for a little too long, he quickly replied.

“I was going to the lecture hall for the MUN meeting.” He said before pausing to recall something. “Wait, aren’t you supposed to be there too?”

“Huh, what?” Alan replied confusedly. “Didn’t you get the text? It was cancelled today because- oh! Right, I forgot you didn’t have a phone, sorry. It was cancelled today because too many people were absent.”

His eyes widened. “It was? Just how many people are gone?”

“Eh, I don’t remember. Let’s see, Lance Dunhoof has the cold, Serena Viper broke her leg in some accident, so she’s in the hospital.” Alan listed, becoming increasingly distracted as he went on. “Phineas Ward collapsed again, but in Pre-Cal this time. Man, I’m jealous of how often he gets to go home, but, then again, those migraines probably aren’t worth it. He was wailing about something repeating and how he 'knows now'.” he said with air-quotes. “I don't really know what he's talking about. He even started crying. A lot of people say he has some sort of mental health problem but nobody knows what it is...”

“Alan.”

“Oh, right. Umm…” he scratched the side of his head in attempt to recall some more information. “The Police Commissioner's son? He's gone too." His eyes swiftly lit up upon remembering something. "I heard that he was helping his dad with the Sworncliff Massacre investigation down back at Dragonhome. That is so cool! Why can't we check out haunted manors?"

"Because we aren't professionals? And I'm pretty sure the manor isn't haunted."

"But there were, like, thirty-something reported deaths, and a lot of people who attended the party are still missing. There's even blood coating the walls and floors. The ceiling too! It's so freaky." Alan countered. "Surely, that's an opportunity for ghosts. Come on, man, I know you're interested in this kind of stuff."

He did recognize how he normally would become excited the supernatural despite how scientifically improbable ghosts are. However, all he wanted to do today was sleep. "I know, I am interested. I'm just a little tired today." Sirius replied with a long yawn. “Well, a bit more than usual anyways.”

"Tired?" Alan blinked. A wave of concern washed over his face, wiping away his casual smile. "Are you alright? I can't believe I didn't notice earlier. Do you need a lift? I know you normally walk, but you look like you could fall over. No offence."

Before Sirius could anything, however, he and Alan were interrupted by the call of a teacher down the hall to clear out because the day was over and all students are to go home or to report to a classroom if they’re in a club. The two quickly left the building and entered the courtyard, stopping near the pillaring memorial of Duncan Hamilton, the town founder immortalized as a stone statue.

Taking deep breaths, Alan looked back at Sirius, who had collapsed onto the lawn. Getting down on his knees, he gave his friend's shoulder a shake. "Sirius, get up! I never thought I'd ever say this, but this isn't a good place to rest."

Sirius answered with a grunt and, after a moment, sat up to wipe his glasses of stray grass. He felt Alan's hands brush his messy locks behind him, causing a slight tingle wherever he touched. His heart beat faster, giving him renewed energy from an unexpected source.

"Alright," he said. "Alright, I'm up." Stretching his back, he got to his feet with the help of Alan pulling on his arms. "I'm feeling better now, thank you."

"Yeah, well, I'm still taking you home. There is no way I'm letting you walk in this condition. Let’s go." Alan declared. Pausing to flicker his eyes over his shoulder, he grabbed Sirius's hand and began dragging him in the direction of the school parking lot.

"Do I have no say in this?" Sirius joked as he willingly went along, evoking a laugh from the junior. Alan's hand was really warm, now that he thought about it. He looked up at Alan's face to watch his silky black hair being swept by a dancing breeze, pale green eyes sparkling with an almost literal glow. _He really is as beautiful as everyone says, maybe more so_ , he thought momentarily before coming to his senses and quickly squashing it, his face flushing. Instead, he focused his attention on not tripping over his own feet.

"Okay, Pinky," Alan said, releasing his hand and breaking him out of his reverie. "I introduce to you: the Cloudsong."

Sirius looked at the shiny, metallic green sports car in front of him before responding with a snort. "A Nissan Skyline? Really?" he jested.

"Really." Alan replied with a cheeky grin, bring Sirius onto a full on laugh. "Come on! It fits me! Just get in the car and tell me your address."

Sirius entered shotgun and managed to choke out his address in between his chuckles. Alan hopped into the driver's seat and checked his mirrors while the other calmed down. Afterwards, he placed the key into the slot, turned on the engine, and rummaged the front compartment.

"Sirius, buckle up," started Alan before finding what he was looking for: a pair of sunglasses. "Because this is going to be a bumpy ride."

As he placed them on his face, Sirius had realized that right then and there that this was going to be one of the worst decisions he has made in the entirety of his life.

* * *

Following all the twists and turns, Sirius was quite sure that they had taken longer to get to their destination than the time it would've taken him to walk. _At least I'm not as tired anymore_ , he thought to himself, _but now I'm far dizzier_.

Getting out of the car, in front of him stood a tall but small building made of tanned stone and pale white wood. Large glass windows revealed rows of books of various genres and authors while intricate metal designs wove themselves in the frames. A long staircase was attached to the side of the shop, leading to an upper floor to where the owner and his grandson lived. Above the front entrance was a thin sign that read "The Starfall Bookshop" in silvery letters.

As Sirius walked onto the curb, Alan opened up his own door, his shades discarded.

"Wow, this place looks really nice. I didn't even know Sworncliff had a bookstore before you told me. How come I haven't heard of it?" Alan said while climbing out of the car.

"Starfall is really old," replied Sirius. "And the location is mostly inconspicuous. Really, only the older citizens remember it. Anyone else just goes into the city or to the academy archives if they're a stu- wait, are you following me?"

Alan halted just steps away behind Sirius. "Maybe?" he said, earning a small glare from the shorter male. "What? I could be just interested in the books. Sworncliff doesn't have a library."

"Alan, you have a seventy-two in English right now because you refused to do the required reading since you said books were boring."

Alan went silent, for his point was very clear, and began to hesitate. A moment later, he sighed and glanced over his shoulder, similar to what he did when they first met in the hall. Sirius hadn't put much thought into the action, but, now that he did so again, it seemed odd. Afterwards, Alan leaned forward towards Sirius and spoke lowly.

"You remember our conversation about the massacre? They sent invitations to my house too. If my ma and pa hadn’t planned on going to Las Vegas for Thanksgiving beforehand, they would've gone too. _I_ would've gone too." Alan gripped his hands on Sirius's shoulders, and his eyes grew wide and desperate. "Not only that, when I saw the event on the news, I suddenly noticed that something felt _wrong_. It was like the air was telling me that I was being followed, and it still is. I feel eyes looking at me behind my back but I don’t see anyone. My parents already left for work. I am alone and I need company. I’m scared, Sirius, and I don’t know why. Please don’t make me leave. I don’t want to be alone.”

Taken back by his confession, Sirius immediately raised his own hands and patted down on the other’s hair, which was difficult do to their height differences. “It’s okay, it’s okay,” he said softly. “I wasn’t going to ask you to leave, I just didn’t realize how you were feeling. I’m sure it’s just your imagination; everyone has been feeling uneasy due to the killings.”

“I hope you’re right.” Alan sighed with relief. “Thank you. I’m a little nervous, that’s all. I won’t be a bother; I’ll try keeping myself distracted.” He let out a small laugh. “I guess we’re both really tired today, huh?” Sirius nodded in agreement and the two made for the front entrance.

When the door opened with a small jingle, they were greeted by the faint scent of melted candle wax and quiet classical music playing from a radio at the counter. To the side were tall rows of dark shelves filled with tomes of all sizes lit with the dim yellow light of hanging lamps. Nobody was at the front table, but a clicking noise can be heard from the other side of the lone door beyond it labeled as “Storage”.

Promptly after his eyes landed on the vast quantities of books, Alan rushed and disappeared into the jungle of shelves, likely on a mission of discovery. Meanwhile, Sirius walked up to the counter and tapped on the brass bell sitting by the register.

“Grandpa,” he announced. “I’m back early. The MUN meeting was canceled. I also brought back a friend, if you don’t mind.” The clicking noise ceased, and, eventually, the door creaked open.

Out peeked a frail elderly man with long white hair, thin goatee, and thick reading glasses. Upon seeing his grandson, he stood upright, left the doorway, and approached the table with a pleasant smile, glistening eyes, and a small glass flask in hand.

“Welcome home, Sirius. I’m assuming your day went well. I’m sorry to hear that the meeting was canceled, though I won’t ask why.” His grandfather chuckled. “You look tired, my boy.” He placed the bottle he was holding onto the counter and slid it towards his grandson. “Here, drink this. I apologize for needing your help with those boxes, but I’m not as strong as I once was. This is a concoction I made this morning. It will make you feel better, I promise.”

Sirius picked up the flask, the solution inside sloshing. “What is this?” He asked, raising the bottle to the light. The liquid inside was a vivid blue color that imitated the sky. He hadn’t seen anything like it before.

The old man waved his hand. “Oh, it’s an old recipe. A tonic that should help against any bad feelings you have. Please trust me and try it; I’m sure you have many questions. You always do.”

He looked at the vial one more time. He could’ve almost sworn it glowed. _Well, here goes nothing_ , he thought before downing the potion. Instantly, he felt a cool wave of energy flow through him as he swallowed. The soothing feeling washed away the soreness in his muscles and unraveled the knots in his mind. While he was still somewhat sleepy, he was no longer as exhausted as he was at the beginning of the day. He vocally sighed as the tonic cleansed him.

“How are you feeling, my boy?” His grandfather asked. Sirius responded with a satisfied hum and placed the flask back onto the table. “Good, good. I hadn’t made such a potion in ages. I’m glad it still works. Now, you said brought somebody here? Where is the child?”

As if on cue, Alan turned around the corner with a small stack of books and a questionable amount of dust in hand.

“Hey Pinky!” He called out, his face once more bearing a cheeky grin. “Look at all these books I found on-” Alan began before stopping in his tracks, his books falling to the ground with a startlingly loud _thunk_.

“No, the books!” Sirius cried as he rushed to pick them up. Alan, however, had completely forgotten his newfound literature and had his hands in the air, face expressing utter awe.

“Dude, _that’s_ your grandpa? He looks exactly like a wizard! He has the hair, he has the beard, he has the robe; he could be like Dumbledore or somebody!” He exclaimed.

Sirius, who was on his knees collecting the books, rolled his eyes. “Thank you for your insightful observation. He’s also wearing a coat, not a robe. Now, would you kindly help me with these?” Alan, recovering, quickly joined the other on the floor to pick up the mess. As Sirius restacked the pile, he took note of the various titles. " _The Manual of Aeronautics_ , _Modeling Flight_ , _Wings: A History of Aviation_? You think you could sit down long enough to read these?"

"If it's flight related, yeah." Alan said. "I told you the story that got me into aeronautics, right?"

Sirius recalled a conversation that they had over the summer at Focal Point during one of Alan's kiting sessions. "You mean the one where your mom took you hang gliding for the first time?"

Looking fondly down at the books in his hands, Alan sighed. "Yup. Back when I was about seven, my mom took me to Hawaii for a shoot. We had got there a few days early, so she took me to do some of those touristy things, one which was hang gliding. Even though I was with my ma, I was a little scared, but when the wind first hit my face, I knew what I wanted to do with my life. Whether it's by plane, glider, copter, or kite, whatever. My dream is to fly, and I don't care what others are going to say about it."

Sirius can relate to dreams; it was one of the things that connected the two. Sirius, on the other hand, had always been interested in what’s beyond the clouds. He loved how the sky glittered with color and how amazing it would be to meet creatures from other worlds. To know that there is an entire universe and more beyond Earth makes his heart race. His parents used to tell him stories about the constellations and would buy him books about planets and stars while his grandfather would take him stargazing. The cosmos never failed to energize him and he felt as if his whole life was meant to revolve around the extraterrestrial wonders.

"That's a good goal, young man." His grandfather interrupted. He had almost forgotten he was there. "Believe that you can do anything, then do so. Never forget that. Now, I suppose you are the company Sirius had mentioned? My name is Albert Castor, his grandfather, but you seem to know this already. It's good to finally meet one of his friends." He said, reaching out towards Alan with an outstretched hand.

Getting to his feet to grasp it firmly, Alan put on his most charming smile. "Nice to meet you, Mr. Castor, sir. I'm Alan Sky, a junior at the academy. You might have heard of my parents; they're both pretty famous. Your shop is really nice, and there are tons of cool stuff here. Sorry for the mess, by the way."

"Oh no, there's no need for an apology. I'm sure you didn't mean it." The old man dismissed. "Besides, I might actually be a magician." Sirius couldn't help but snicker at the statement. Alan, on the other hand, was struggling to keep a straight face. Albert made a face of exaggerated bewilderment at his grandson. "What? You never know, child. I could be." He said with a splay of his thin fingers. Sirius almost dropped the books he was holding while Alan broke into a laugh restrained only by his other hand.

"Sorry again, Mr. Castor,” Alan choked. “But you’re really different from my own grandparents. They’re always grumpy and tell me to ‘be more responsible’ and stuff."

"You should be more responsible, young man. You may find the fate of the world in your hands one day." The grandfather cautioned him. “You youth have a freedom that is easily wasted. If you’re going to chase a dream, then fly for it. Never stop, no matter how long or how painful the journey is. Never stop beating your wings.” He said, releasing their hands.

“Now if you would excuse me, boys, I have a few tasks I must do in the back.” Albert gestured to the aeronautic books in hand. “Sirius, would you please kindly check this young man out? If you two need anything, you know where to find me." After Sirius nodded, the grandfather returned behind the counter and to the backroom with a slight click of the door, leaving the two alone in the front.

Sirius, just finished with recollecting the other books, smiled up at the other teen, who was stifling down a few giggles, and called him over to the register.

"Okay, would you give me the ones you are holding? Thank you." He requested and, upon being handed the books, began calculating the prices. _These are awfully costly_ , he thought to himself. _I still can’t really imagine Alan reading all of these._

Alan shifted his weight forward and tapped on the table, bringing Sirius’ attention back to himself. “Your grandpa is really nice. How come you live with him?”

Sirius paused momentarily. He never had talked about his parents to anyone. He doesn’t remember too much about his parents other than that they were both engineers and aspiring inventors who really loved him. He loved them too, but sometimes he wished that they had been more careful. Then again, the way they died was completely unexpected, but he didn’t exactly want to accept that. _Well, I have to talk about it someday. Might as well be now, right?_ Taking a deep breath, he replied simply.

“My parents got hit by a meteor.”

Alan was silent before replying with a small "oh", leading to his own surprise. He half expected the other to burst out laughing, as if it was a joke, but Sirius should've known better than to think that the most popular student in school couldn't follow social cues.

"That's... strange and kind of awesome. I'm sorry." Alan said slowly.

"Don't be. It doesn't really bother me anymore." He muttered, but his words sounded empty. Alan seemed to have noticed as well and shifted his weight.

Reluctantly, the older boy asked, "Well, do you want to talk me about them? You don't have to if you don't want to."

"It's fine, really." He reassured with a wave of his hand and gestured towards the backroom door. "My mom was the adopted daughter of my grandpa, who he found abandoned when she was little. She was really grateful for him and always worked her hardest. He even got her into the academy back when it was still new."

"Did he? I didn't know the school was that old."

He nodded. "It is. She was really smart, and my dad said I got my brains from her, but he was probably exaggerating. Speaking of him, they met in high school, connecting over their interest in engineering and the environment. They eventually got married after graduation and moved to the city for work. They had me there too, but they came back to visit grandpa often."

"What about your father's side? You haven't mentioned them."

"Disowned. His folk didn't like how their son was dating a poor orphan from an unknown background, so they cut him off when he said he wanted to marry her. They also didn't like how he wanted to be an inventor since chances of reliable profit was low. That's also why I live with my grandpa and not them."

Alan looked at him in horror. "What? That's terrible! How are you even related to them? Screw those assholes, you don't need them. You need only us."

Sirius looked at him confusedly. "Us?" he questioned. Alan gave him an obvious look, but before he could give him a response, the door rang behind them and a plainly dressed man with dark hair stepped into the shop. Something about the figure made his stomach drop.

"Welcome sir." Sirius greeted the man nonetheless, who replied with short grunt. The man went and disappeared behind the shelves. A fear scratched at him that made him feel meek, as if he should be as far away from the man as possible, though he didn't really know why. He turned back to Alan, who too had turned to look at the stranger. "I've never seen him before." He commented.

"Neither have I." Alan replied with a frown.  In his face was etched an uncertain dismay. "Maybe he's from out of town?"

"Maybe." _But only the old citizens of town know about the store_ , his mind echoed. He looked back at where the man had gone with suspicion. _Where did he come from?,_ he wondered. Shaking his head, he returned to his math.

"Okay, so the total of all of these is... one hundred and twenty dollars and eighty six cents. Are you paying in cash or-"

There was a loud _thud_ and clatter from the far end of the shop and a distant curse. Sirius quickly excused himself and ran in the direction of the sound. He turned the corner to find a heavy shelf toppled over, blocking the other end of the aisle. The man stood nearby glaring down at the crumpled pile of books strewn across the floor.

"Mister, are you alright? What happened?" Sirius called as he approached the mess. He kneeled down to inspect the covers and shelf for damage. The books had chunks of the material missing with impossibly clean edges, as if they were cut off by a sharp razor. He never had seen anything like them and was sure they were in perfect condition before.

"What in the world?" He muttered under his breath. Glancing at the shelf, he saw that the shelf too had pieces missing from its base. Sirius then recalled the visitor and wondered if the man had anything to do with the damage. He was about to get back onto his feet when, suddenly, a blackness rushed over his eyes and mouth, obscuring his vision and silencing his voice, taking him by surprise. He struggled to remove whatever had covered his face, but his clawing was useless against the immovable object. The texture was similar to a hand, but it was smooth, near weightless, completely opaque, and refused to budge. He felt a form surround him, but it did not feel as human as much as it did a suffocating blanket.

Sirius faintly heard a shrill voice through the black mass. “Hey! What the… Get off of him!” Abruptly, he was knocked forward, his body landing on the other side of the fallen shelf, resulting in whatever that was covering him being peeled from his face and body.

He looked up to see Alan, after performing the tackle, attempting to strangle from behind what appeared to be the visitor. However, instead of a man of flesh, the stranger was now a humanoid mass of total darkness save for a collection of twinkling white specks scattered about the figure. At first, Alan’s handling seemed to have weakened the visitor, but then it lurched backwards and its body bent itself to wrap around the teen’s arms. Starting to panic, he rammed himself into the display beside him, raining books upon his captor.

The tomes, however, disappeared upon impact with the mass as if they were absorbed, and the creature did not flinch. In fact, it seemed to have grown larger in size and rose, washing itself over Alan. Adrenaline pumping through his body, Sirius leaped to his feet and his mind spun. _What is that thing? What is it doing to Alan?_ His utter confusion quickly disappeared when the abomination completely cloaked his friend, the junior disappearing into the black abyss. His heart dropped and with it, so did all attempts to understand the situation. All he saw was red, and he wanted the creature to burn.

With an impulsive twist of his hand, he thrusted his arm forward and swept it to the side, drawing a vibrant trail of pink light in the air. He felt energy flow from his heart to his limbs, power glowing at his fingertips. His eyes were filled with stars and all the colors around him jumped in saturation. He pulled his hand back and a bright cerise glow emitted from the monstrous blob, exploding into a burst of energy that separated the creature and Alan, sending both flying. Alan smashed into the racks while the monster rammed through the rows of shelves, eating away through the material as it soared, leaving perfectly clean holes in its wake. Sirius bent over, now out of breath.

Alan, quickly recovering, shook his head and climbed from the broken bookshelves, screaming, "What was _that_?" Sirius, however, was just as confused.

"I don't know, but it destroyed the shop!"

"No, not that! What did you just do? The shiny thing!"

Sirius knew even less of that and gave him a shrug. "I don't know about that either! But I hope I can do that again!" He said as he looked through the trail of tears.

Lying near the front, the monster rose with inhuman flexibility, though it seemed smaller than it was before. In addition, the coloring of the creature was no long a pitch black and instead was tinted a swirl of pink. It no longer had a face, but, by the air surrounding the figure, it was positively murderous. All of a sudden, the door to the backroom, with a sharp creak, swung open to reveal Albert Castor putting on some gloves, his normally tranquil expression twisted with an almost identical anger.

"Boys!" The old man called. "Stand back!" He then turned to the beast in front of him, flexing his hands. "Shade, this has been a very bad choice." The grandfather pointed his finger at the creature, which lit up in a similar pink color, and began drawing spirals, angles, and shapes in midair, each one flaring in luminosity and launching itself at the monster. With each impact, the mass made a pained, contorted gnarl that was once the voice of a man. It got smaller and smaller as the grandfather threw his sigils, and the two teens watched in awe.

"Sirius, this will be a good lesson to you.” Albert bellowed at his befuddled grandson. “Channel your energy to your fingers and imagine! You can do this in addition to more!”

"What? How?" Sirius sputtered, his former rage withdrawn. He was having trouble comprehending the situation. _Is that magic?,_ he asked himself.

"Just believe! Use the power inside of you! And Alan?" He called in-between shots. He stopped his stream of spells to shoot at a hanging lamp and disconnect it from its iron chain. It fell onto the figure, resulting in an aggravated screech. Curiously, it was not absorbed into the mass like the books were. "Follow the wind! It is at your disposal."

Sirius looked down at his hands and back at the creature. It was shrinking, but it struggled against the barrage towards the source. The longer he watched the runes fly, the more lines in his mind began to assemble connection. As abstract as they were, they seemed familiar and began constructing themselves in his mind, associating themselves with various words. Those swirls mean "clan", these shapes are "spirits", and the angles were the symbols of "mind". These originless memories were bewildering but they somehow made sense.

With his finger, he focused his mind on its end and pointed at the monster. _Believe, he said, but believe in what?._ he asked himself. He was never particularly religious, and he didn’t think he could do anything that could hurt it. The voice of his grandfather then echoed in his mind. _Believe that you can do anything, then do so. Never forget that._ So, within his mind, he mentally drew out a circle. He did not know what it was, but he had a purpose, and that was enough. Within the ring were more circles and a web of lines and sigils, spinning out a silent story, a demand for retribution. And, with a flick of his wrist, the circle appeared instantly before his eyes. It was made of flaming pink energy, pulsing with power. The wheel spun rapidly and flashed out a bolt of cosmic energy across the shop before warping itself into a following trail that rushed towards the creature, exploding in a burst of fuchsia smoke and sparks. The monster let out an intense roar as it recoiled.

A smile spread across Sirius’ face. Once more, he summoned the magic circle and a runic bolt shot across the room, blasting the mass with a bombardment of pink fire. Suddenly, a gust of wind blew by the side of his face, bring his attention there. Alan, grinning ear-to-ear, was surrounded in spiraling green mist.

“Hey, Pinky, I think I got this whole wizard thing down too!” The older boy cheered. “Check this out!”

Alan turned his head, took a deep breath, and blew. A jet of pale green air escaped his lips and streamed across the room, smothering the beast with a current of warm air. By then, whatever was left of the mass was minuscule and it screeched a final distorted cry before disappearing from existence.

The air in the shop began to calm as the chaos settled. The store vaguely smelled of spring and mint in addition to singing metal. Sirius glanced at his surroundings and saw the pitiful destruction of so many shelves and books that he could’ve cried. Across the shop, he heard the laughter of his grandfather, who was removing his gloves.

“Good work, my lords. You’re starting off brilliantly! Though, I was hoping your bodies would’ve matured by the time the Barrier had a failure…” Albert praised. “I would kneel, but my old body wouldn’t easily support that. This has been the most excitement I’ve had in years.”

Sirius’ confusion returned. He had no idea what his grandfather was talking about. He and Alan turned and locked eyes, their mystification mutual. Sirius eventually spoke up.

“Uh, grandpa? What was that?” He asked. His grandfather made a look of puzzlement before realization dawned on him.

“Oh, of course. How silly of me, your memories are still gone. I shouldn’t have concluded so quickly. Allow me to explain.” His grandfather waved them over. “Don’t mind the mess. We can handle it later. I recommend finding a stool or somewhere to sit. This is a long story.”

Alan and Sirius carefully stepped over the crumbling wood and scraps of stray paper and made over to where Albert Castor stood by the hole where the black mass once was. They both took to sitting on the counter by Alan’s miraculously untouched books.

“Are you comfortable now? If so, what would you like to know first?”

Before Sirius got to say anything, Alan spoke first. “What the hell was all that shiny, swishy stuff? Like, you made little thingies in midair and you threw them at the thing, and, wow what was that too? The black thing that jumped Sirius? Okay, it tried jumping me too, but seriously, now I _really_ don't want to be alone now. And Sirius can make weird stuff too? And something kind of _clicked_ in my mind when I was watching you and him do the magic-y thing and then I could do the thing too! Except I had cool green stuff while yours is that obnoxious pink color. Not that pink is a bad color! It’s just that, wow, that’s bright. And-”

Albert raised his hands in the air. “Okay, slow down, please. Thank you. Ask me questions one at a time. I’m old, you know.”

Alan frowned and Sirius took his chance. “Why did you call us ‘my lords’?”

“Hmm, yes that’s probably a good place to start. I’ll tell you the abridged version to save our time. Think about this first: what do you think about religion? Gods, deities, magic, miracles, demons, the like? Do you believe in such things? Don’t say anything, just think about it. Now, what if I told you that whatever you thought of, whether you think there is one specific God, multiple Spirits, or none at all, is wrong? What if I told you that? Because that is what I’m telling you. It is all a lie.”

“A lie? What do you mean?” Sirius asked.

“What I mean is, the gods are real, but they are not known by anyone in the world of any religion. They are the Eleven, who are, appropriately, eleven dragon deities embodying the elements that make up this world: Earth, Fire, Wind, Water, Shadow, Ice, Lightning, Light, Nature, Plague, and-”

He was interrupted by Alan. “Whoa whoa whoa, what kind of an element is Plague? That’s, like, a disease.”

“Ahem. Plague is a disease, yes, but it is also the element of death, pestilence, and survival. Bacteria, viruses, vectors, and corpses are all under the domain of the Plague deity, so do not take it lightly.” The grandfather corrected. “Now, as I was saying, there are eleven elements, the final one being Arcane, which is magic in its purest form. Yes, magic is real. It is the divine gift from the heavens that drives the world and all that makes it up.”

“The time the planet has existed can be split into four eons, each designated by an important event that marks its end. The First Age was when the world was first born and when there were only eight gods, each fighting for dominance over the world. Their conflict was disrupted by an outside force known as the Shade. A living black void of insatisfiable hunger, it swooped down and began sapping the planet of every element is come across. In an effort to save their home, the deities worked together and fought back against the abomination, and, after hundreds of years of fighting, they chased away the Shade back into deep space, but it threatened to return in the future.”

As illogical as all he was hearing sounded, it somehow made sense, which scared him. “Then, was that… thing, the Shade?” Sirius stuttered. “Just, what is the Shade?”

The old man sighed. “I don’t know what the Shade is. Nobody knows. What we had encountered today was but a fragment of the abomination. Allow me to continue, for I am not finished.”

“Out of fear of the Shade’s return, the eight gods unanimously choose to sacrifice their bodies and power to form a tower, named the Pillar of the World, which would generate a shield that would protect their world from the void above while the planet developed without their influence. This began the Second Age, also known as the Godless Age. Here, humanity was born as wandering tribes. They worshipped the guardian pillar, and with time, a few gained the ability to manipulate the magic that surrounds it. They were known as magi or magisters, and became the leaders of the first humans. However, as time passed, the power of industry and commerce grew while the magic community shrank. Eventually, magi became outcasts and, under unjust suspicion, were locked away in prisons. These captive mages grew aggravated by their treatment and began a revolution against the soldiers and common men. A war brewed between warriors and wizards that killed thousands until an incredible mage known as the Speaker silenced the world with her voice. She spoke a prophecy of an engine that would combine the magic and technology that would unlock the true potential of arcane. Moved by her words, the war ended and the two sides combined their strengths to build the machine.” His voice wavered for a moment, but he continued.

“These towns, they grew and became cities. These cities, they grew and became empires. And these empires, they grew to all be connected by thick conduits to a massive reactor engineered by the best technicians and magicians available. Eventually, the machine was completed and its opening was announced. The kings flipped the switch and that was the last thing they ever did. The magic overwhelming, the reactor malfunctioned and exploded, the arcane energy wiping all of humanity from the planet.”

“Some prophecy.” Alan muttered, causing Sirius to elbow him. Albert ignored them.

“From this excess arcane magic came forth three more gods: the deities of Nature, from the enhanced growth of plants due to arcane seepage, Plague, from the dying, rotting bodies of animals from arcane radiation, and Arcane itself. The first two, Nature and Plague, found each other, their polarizing elements, and returned divine conflict to the planet. The Arcane dragon, however, seeked knowledge. A curious drake, he scaled the Pillar of the World in an effort to see the sky clearly, as he saw in his holy telescope a moving mass of blackness approaching the planet.”

“The Shade.” Sirius stated and received a nod from his grandfather.

“Yes. He didn’t know about that though. The problem is that when he reached the top of the tower, he found his vision of the mysterious blackness distorted by the magic barrier. So, quite simply enough, he dispersed it.”

The room became silent before Alan spoke very flatly. “What.”

The grandfather shrugged. “He didn’t know. There wasn’t anyone to tell him. Not even humanity knew what the Pillar was for.”

Sirius coined in. “But that’s kind of dumb. I mean, he should’ve known that the barrier was for something. Barriers are made to keep things out.”

Albert stared at him before emitting a soft chuckle. “I don’t know what he was thinking at the time, but perhaps he didn’t know that it was a barrier, or maybe the altitude was going to his head, but he broke the shield and the Shade descended. He leaped off the tower in fear and fell while the Shade made a pulverizing blow to the pillar in its weakened state, shattering it and releasing the gods from their petrified state. The blow itself, however, pulsed the Shade away, sending it back into outer space. The gods, newly awakened, separated and went to claim land as their domain. They created dragonkind as their subjects, and, once again, they battled for dominance, though in a more efficient, productive fashion. Their children battle for them, where they formed clans, civilizations, culture, holidays, and everything that makes a species a people. This was the Third Age of the world."

Albert clapped his hands together. "Now here is the important part. You see, while dragonkind was flourishing, the Shade was always a looming threat. The gods still remember the terror that the creature is, but they did not know how to eliminate it. Eventually, they were told of the great arcane reactor and the power it possessed. If it had enough power to create three gods, what if it were used against the Shade? The reactor, however, utilized the power of the bound deities to run and the design was imperfect. The pieces, delicate as they are, could be only handled by humans, as the dragons did not have the size nor the flexibility we had. Very few species had opposable thumbs and many were of colossal size. They needed the original makers to fix the device."

"Were there not anything humanoid around that could fix the design?" Sirius asked with evolution in mind.

"Oh there were," Albert replied. "But they all hated dragonkind. Media isn't entirely wrong about portraying dragons as dangerous, violent monsters. Dragons did own hoards, and they did ruin civilizations of other species, but they also made art, gossiped, traded, and had families. But we aren't talking about that. The point is that the dragons needed humans, but there weren't any. In addition, what proof dragons had about the humans of the past were mostly good; we were efficient, imaginative, intelligent, and not too different from themselves other that we were small, couldn't fly, and had no scales. The deities, while dragons by heart and nature, they could incarnate as any form as they pleased. However, if they died to incarnate once more, then the planet would be vulnerable to attack and there would be no one to lead their children. Likewise, they could not build the machine on their own. After a decidedly long argument, the deities, together, had a truce and hatched together a plan of drastic measures. They would sacrifice all the life energy on the planet, including their own, to, not only recreate the world, but give it a barrier without a keystone that would hold off the Shade until humanity evolves and the deities are reborn. Today, we live in the Fourth Age, a new eon of man."

"And this is now? But the Shade _is_ here." Alan said and swept his hand towards the large hole that was the visitor.

"Yes. It appears that, after billions of years, the Shade has finally made a crack. I believe that figure earlier was just a scout or a test. The Shade has influence over the void, whether it is mental losses, like love, or a physical loss, such as people. Whatever this loss is, the Shade can fill it. Long ago, the Shade would kill lone dragons and replace them with nearly perfect copies under its control. And I have some suspicions..." He began but drifted off.

"Suspicions of what?" Sirius questioned, but his grandfather simply waved him away.

"Oh, never mind. Just some musings of an old man. Neverless, the Shade has made its move, and the gods, they have been reborn by now, but they don't remember anything. We have gods among us, living among us, and neither party knows. They must be reawakened, but I really wish they didn't have to. Not now."

Sirius was baffled. "Why? They're gods, this something they’ve got to do!"

"They may be gods, but now they're also human.  Not only that, but I've been watching them and their development. They aren't adults, only teenagers, and, while this is a great honor, I wish they had enough time to reach maturity. They don't remember who they were or what they can do, but we have gods among us, and the world needs them now."

Albert went quiet and stared at his grandson expectantly. Sirius looked back and saw his grandfather’s eyes shine dimly in the yellow lamp light. The way they shone, they looked sorry, as if he had witnessed a great crime against humanity.  He tried to remember his initial question, which he had forgotten over the course of his history lesson. _Why did you call us 'my lords'?_ Amnesiac gods, elemental magic, himself. Connecting the dots, his pupils shrunken and his jaw went slack.

"I... I am..." He stammered.

"You and Alan both. You, Sirius, are the Arcanist, the divine god of magic. And you, Alan, are the Windsinger, the living embodiment of air. The sky is your domain. You two are both so young, but I hope I will teach you two and the rest of the deities to the best of my limits."

Sirius couldn't believe his ears. _How could someone as average as myself be a god? How am I supposed to kill some astral abomination? What else do I not know about myself?_ While questions flooded his brain, his friend beside him leaned forward. "Umm, Mr. Castor?"

"Yes, Alan?" The old man hummed.

"So, I'm the wind god?"

"Yes, Alan."

"Does that mean I can fly?" His eyes practically sparkled.

"I suppose so, yes. I wouldn't recommend trying until you get a better grip on your abilities; however, judging your performance in the skirmish earlier, you’re getting along fine. You seem to be taking the news well."

Alan shrugged. “It’s a lot to take in, but I’m flexible. Plus, this is kind of awesome! I’m a god, I get cool magic powers, and we get to save the world! We’re like heroes!” He glanced back at the crater where the Shade fragment was and shivered. “Ugh, but after looking at that thing, I’m going to have nightmares for days. At least I’m not feeling that paranoia that’s been haunting me lately anymore, which is nice.”

“Paranoia?” Albert asked. “Have you been followed by the Shade for very long? This isn’t something you should be by yourself in.”

“Only a few days. I’m home alone right now… which is a bad idea.” Alan scratched the back of his head. “Uh, is it okay if I stay here for a day or two if you and Sirius don’t mind?”

Upon mention of his name, Sirius snapped his jaws and regained his wits. “It’s fine, really! Right, Grandpa? We have a spare room, he can stay there.”

Albert patted Sirius’ shoulder. “Of course, of course, there’s no need to get rowdy. I was going to offer anyways.” He turned back to Alan and gestured towards the front door. “I suggest you return home for items that you’d like to keep here while there's still daylight outside. We’re also going to need some help cleaning up the shop, so prepare for that as well.”

Alan let out a loud cheer and ran out the front door followed by the revving of an engine and screeching of a departing vehicle. Sirius flinched in reminder of his experience and vowed never to be in the same car as Alan ever again. He felt his arms and legs being prodded by his grandfather and assumed that he was checking for injuries. Now that he thought about it, he didn’t really know much about his grandfather other than he was old and owned this bookshop. Right now seemed to be the perfect time to ask.

Cautiously, he said, “Grandpa, can I ask you some things?”

“Of course you can, but please hold still. You’re slightly bruised from the encounter. What did you hit?”

“A shelf? I got tackled, kind of. Never mind that, how do you know all this stuff? The Shade, the Eleven, you know a lot about this. What more do you know that nobody else does?”

“I’ve seen, experienced and lived through many things. There’s a lot to learn. You should know this.” He answered. He continued to tap his bruises, making Sirius wince.

“Alright, but how old are you?” He felt a cooling sensation against his back that he couldn’t quite place his finger on.

“I’m eighty-three. My birthday is next month, if I must remind you. Now hold this.” He was handed a torn piece of paper that seemed to have been ripped violently from its tome. He speculated it came from a book from the first fallen shelf.

“But how long have you’ve been eighty-three?” He challenged while placing the scrap onto the table.

His grandfather raised a brow at him. “Now, what kind of question is that? People are an age for a year, are they not?”

Sirius shook his head. “Yes, but some things aren’t adding up. How do you know all of this if nobody survived the Third Age? How can you use magic if all the gods are teenagers? You’ve been hiding so many things from me, it’s like I don’t even know you anymore.”

Albert remained quiet at first, but he relented. “I’m sorry, Sirius, I really am, but please understand that I'm old and I worry. You and the other deities, you may be gods, but you are also human. You have dreams and futures ahead of you. I had hoped that, when you were ever to be given illumination on your sacred duties, you would be in adulthood by then. But you aren’t, and now you will never have a normal childhood. You simply cannot."

Sirius suddenly felt insensitive. Of course he wanted to give him a normal lifestyle; like him, he had only one family member left. He would do whatever to protect the other, even lie.

"And, if you really must know,” Albert continued, “I don’t remember my age or my birthday. I was born in the Second Age, lived through two apocalypses, and I survived to this day out of pure luck and devotion. Everything is both new and old to me, but nothing is the same.”

"It's alright, really." Sirius said. "I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions. My mind is really fuzzy today. Though, how did you survive?"

His grandfather looked out the shop window. Anyone outside could've seen the wreckage inside, but the streets were empty as usual. "Sirius, how much have I told you about your grandmother?"

"I have a grandmother?" Sirius gasped, surprised. He didn't know that the older man had been married.

"You do. Her name was Sibyl Ford. Lively, talkative, a lot like your friend, actually. Maybe I'll tell you more about her later. But she was a very powerful, famous mage. Everyone knew her as the Speaker."

"Wait, the Speaker was your wife?" He gawked.

"Yes, but she was always just Sibyl to me. Even though she only gave one prophecy, she never stopped having visions. She saw the engine's creation, but she didn't see its destruction before it was finished. She was expected to attend the opening, so she couldn't run, but I wasn't. I don't think most people even knew she had a husband. So, she told me to go hide away deep in the earth and wait it out. To protect me from the explosion, she gave me this."

The old man loosened his scarf and reached into his coat to reveal a thick metal disk worn on a chain. His grandfather had always worn a scarf, and, as Sirius grew up, he copied and became almost a signature to his style. He hadn't seen the amulet before, most likely because it was always hidden behind clothing. He got up from his seat and walked over to get a closer look. The disk was covered in an intricate pattern of lines and runes that made his mind hurt the longer he looked at it.

"Powered by the arcane reactor's explosion, this gives me resistance to all eleven elements, so don't worry about me while I'm training you. Sibyl made it." He stopped and stared at the disk in front of him, turning thoughtful. Sirius shifted on his feet.

"She would've liked you." Albert said and tucked the disk back into his shirt. "You have her curiosity."

"Or my own." He scoffed. "But I won’t be dissolving any barriers anytime soon."

His grandfather turned back to the window. "I doubt you would, Sirius. You're a very different person now."

 _I hope I am,_ he thought. Sirius, standing by him, quietly remembered something. "Grandpa?"

"Yes, Sirius?"

"I'd still like to be your grandson, if that’s alright. The whole “lord” thing is uncomfortable."

With a short pause, the other replied. "Of course, my boy. No matter who you are, you'll always be my child."

They stood by the window in a companionable silence and let the sun warm the room. Sirius' mind began drifting again, and he noticed all the colors around him becoming brighter and the light more vibrant. He could see the warping energies flowing through the air and earth. They weren't noticeable before, but they looked similar to what he saw in the night sky. He wiped his glasses. If he had noticed before he was told about the Eleven, he would've thought his vision was impaired. But no, he was fine, and everything is going to be fine. He might need to ask more about his abilities later.

His train of thought was rudely interrupted by a green figure flashing across his vision and a loud _"Whoop!"_ blaring through the glass pane followed by a loud clatter. His heart almost fell out of his chest.

"Well, that must have been Alan. Why did I even expect something else?" His grandfather said dully. Sirius turned his head and saw that the man was writing in a small notepad he didn't realize he had gotten.

"Before you go check on your friend, please take this and show this to him. We'll be spending the rest of the afternoon cleaning up the store, but the important thing is what I'll need you to do tomorrow at school." The grandfather ordered and promptly ripped the page from the pad. Sirius took the slip and found it to be a list of names. He only recognized some of them.

"I'll need you and Alan to talk to a few people. They're all students, and you don't have to find them all tomorrow. But direct them here and tell them to come as soon as possible."

Sirius, while still shaken, tucked the paper into his pocket while his grandfather left for the counter. Bounding into the room was Alan, who had a duffel bag slung over his shoulder. He was disheveled, but he had the widest grin on his face.

"Ohmygoshdidyouseemethatwassoawesomeimeanlikeholyshitthatwasamazing!" Alan screeched gleefully in a pace so rapid, Sirius couldn't keep up.

"What did you do?" He demanded. "You tried flying didn't you? Didn't we just tell you that it was a bad idea?"

"But _flying_! How can you tell me _not_ to fly?" Alan said while comically opening his arms, his mood unfaltering. "That's like telling you not to ask questions, which you can't. Besides, I’ve got to try sometime, why not now? You’ve got to believe in me, man."

Sirius rolled his eyes, but the other had a point. He pulled the paper back out of his pocket. “Hey, Alan, do you know any of these people?”

Alan took the sheet and scanned the names. “Oh hey, I know these people. Or know of them, anyways. They all attend MUN. What is this for?” Sirius explained the situation to him. “Oh, so these must be the other gods! Wow! Too bad the MUN meeting got cancelled. I don’t know when the next one will be.”

“I guess we need to find them one-by-one.” Sirius said exasperatedly. He wasn’t very good at meeting new people. It’s a complete wonder to him how he managed to talk to Alan for the first time.

He then heard a sharp whistle come from his side and barely managed to react quickly enough to catch a thrown broom. Alan beside him caught another, and his grandfather walked out of the back room holding a brush of his own.

"Alright, boys, we have the rest of the day to clean up this disaster. Chances are the Shade ate everything that it touched here, so most of these aren't scavengable. Save what you can, however, and make the most of today. Sirius, you can continue to fill Alan in on the details for tomorrow while we work. And Alan, you still are going to need to pay for the books you were going to buy earlier. Now, hurry, we don't have much time."

The two looked over to the side, where shelves stood by with large gaping holes and the floor was barely visible under the layer of torn paper. His grandfather started off brushing the shattered remains of the fallen lamp into a small pile.

Sirius gave a heavy sigh while Alan smothered his face with his hands.


	2. Children

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, it has been roughly ten months since this story last updated! Blame school and procrastination. Thanks to everyone who stuck around; enjoy!

_Things were getting old._

_He opened his eyes to pure darkness, but he did not scream or struggle. No, he simply waited as his environment took shape into the twisting chamber he had been seeing since he was a child. The Spiral Keep, he took to calling it, was a normal sight after twelve years of waking nightmares and intense pain. These dreams weren't common, but they never made themselves scarce either, attacking him whenever he felt the calmest. His mind would come here to this undersea fortress and would not let him leave until he looked into that damned fountain, its accursed glitter taunting him with abstract ideas that just end with his own destruction. He would then wake up in the nurse's office intact and be sent home to an empty house with a mind-splitting headache and the reassurance that his reputation as the local lunatic was secured._

_This was the life of Phineas Ward._

_Glancing up the steep staircase lit by glowing barnacles, he closed his eyes and swore it was both longer and wider than he previously remembered it to be. Said last time was in the middle of his math class yesterday, and he shuddered upon recalling the moment. All month, he had been receiving the same vision over and over as if it were trying to tell him something. Surprisingly, it matched the description of the very first entry of the dream journal he had been keeping since his therapist recommended it to him. He saw the Earth become surrounded in a darkness littered in glowing eyes and jaws full of needle-like teeth. The planet was consumed by the creature, leaving a lone stone fragment to mark the former existence of his home._

_A world, a monster, and a remainder. He didn't know what these meant, and that bothered him._

_There was very little information to work with; there always was. The dreams were nonsensical, and they might as well be simply constructions built from a troubled mind. However, Phineas didn't settle for the easy answer. Surely, they had a purpose, but it was one nobody had an answer to, not even himself. There was no logic to be found in this curse, and, no matter what solutions he came up with, they never clicked._

_That is, until the night of the fourth Thursday._

_He was taking a late shower when, for the first time, a clear vision came to him. It appeared parallel to his recurring dream, but everything revealed itself to be a metaphor. It was so defined, that it somehow compelled him to leave home the very moment and drive to a house on the other side of town whose residents he didn’t even know of._

And get me fined for public indecency, _Phineas mused self-deprecatingly. However, the image was too horrific, too real to be dismissed. In a blink, he found himself in front of an empty manor that only had lost souls and fresh blood to fill the void._

_A family, an ambush, and a survivor. He now knows what these meant, and they meant a disastrous massacre. The Sworncliff Massacre._

_Everything that happened afterwards was a blur. He somehow managed to alert the police, though he didn't recall ever taking his cellphone. There was questioning, yelling, and shedded tears. The whole town went into chaos, but that didn't matter to him because all he knew was that he was too late to stop the killing._

But I saved someone, _he reminded himself. A woman was found alone with a concussion and was rushed to the hospital. Had he arrived any later, she might not have made it._

I wonder if Henry had heard anything about her yet, _he thought idly. Henry, one of his classmates, was the only Hamilton left intact because he was held up from attending. Upon arriving to the scene, the older teen was absolutely crushed, as if his life was sucked right out of him. A wave of pity overtook Phineas and, without a second thought, he volunteered to provide the other temporary residence at his own home, an offer hesitantly accepted._

_He sighed. With all reason, it was an impulsive move to take in his classmate so rashly, but it's not like his parents would care. He could trash the school or blow off all their money, and they wouldn't even notice. His eyes flickered upwards towards the shimmering fountain towering above his position. The water pooling at his feet nudged him, as if it were urging him to move forward. Grudgingly, he, once again, resigned himself to his destination and slowly climbed the staircase._

What am I supposed to do?, _he asked himself. Guilt weighed heavily on his mind, though he tried to reason himself out of it. He wasn't responsible for the massacre, but he knew it was going to happen. He could've warned them, couldn't he? The deaths of all these innocent people were his fault, were they not? The more logical part of his mind reminded himself that he didn't know. All he got was a vague picture, not a clear message that he could communicate. In addition, who would listen to a mentally-ill high school student known for fainting in class?_

 _The rising liquid swatted his ankles as if it were in disagreement. It was oddly comforting, and he was reminded of his initial objective._ Even then, I shouldn't idle, _he drilled into himself as he quickened his pace. Above him, the basin seemed exhaustingly far, but something suddenly sparked in his heart that compelled him move. The fountain, it told him things, information that couldn't be learned any other way. The massacre wasn't a disaster, it was a tragedy. A tragedy that he knew about when it should have been inconceivable. There must be a reason for him knowing, a purpose, and it was only just ahead. Urgently, he walked faster as his mind began shifting gears. This entire time, he thought he was powerless, but for the first time in ages, he had a chance to gain control. He had a speck of hope, a thousand questions, and a need for answers._

_His stride broke into a run._

_Racing up the stairs at an inhuman speed, the sea roared after him as it crashed against the steps. He had only one conclusion, but it was insane. However, it wasn't unlike anything else he had lived through, and he could take the pressure. Once he reached the top of the platform, he clasped his hands on the rim of the bowl and glared down._

_"Okay, you goddamn dish, tell me what I need to know, and I'm_ not _taking some stupid trope for an answer." He snarled at the sculpture. In return, the starry fluid spiraled into a whirlpool, murky images flickering on its surface as if it couldn't decide what to reveal. Becoming impatient, he willed the basin to make up its mind already. The liquid responded by gyrating faster, the color becoming a blinding white. Suddenly, a deafening chime rippled throughout the chamber, disrupting the ritual and throwing the prophet from his hold._

_This was new._

* * *

A short whistle shook her from her concentration. Melanie glanced up from her newspaper.

"It was quite the drive, but we're almost at the academy," beamed Edgar Thomason with a playful smile on his lips. The mailman's pleasant demeanor and friendly attitude made it easy to understand how he managed to befriend two-thirds of the student body despite referring to everyone as children. "Be sure to gather all your stuff before we arrive. Would you like to be dropped off in the front or back this time?"

Folding her read, she tucked her copy of the _Heirston Telegram_ into her backpack, lifted her buckled boots off the dashboard, patted down her skirt, and pointed ahead. "Front. The passing period should be coming up, and I’ve got lunch next." Edgar nodded and continued driving.

"So," he started as Melanie turned to watch the orange blur of trees pass by the moving van. "What were you up to this time around? Spitfire didn't tell me anything when he asked me to pick you up from Sundial."

Upon the mention of the uptown residential area, she scoffed. "Normal business." She elaborated no more, and Edgar looked back at the road with understanding. They both knew what she meant when she said "business", and, even when alone, they needed to be careful about what they talk about in broad daylight. She slipped her hand into her string bag and rummaged through its contents. Besides some pencils, markers, and textbooks, she also had two small parcels wrapped roughly in brown paper that she "liberated" this morning.

One of the packages was a chimera statuette made of gold. Originally, it was part of an art exhibit that consisted of fantasy animals made entirely of precious metals, only for the collection to be mistakenly lost during shipping. The owner of the collection was paying good money for any pieces returned, and her sources had found that this particular figurine was bought by a wealthy homeowner here in Sworncliff. Too bad they didn't know its true value, or they might not have used it as a paperweight to spill food on. She'll need to deliver it to the market later to find out its worth.

"We're nearing the gate," he said as the outside greenery shifted from late autumn trees to tall evergreen hedges. Melanie nodded and ducked into the back where variously sized boxes stood by. As the truck approached the entrance of the school, it began slowing, and she heard the chatter between the gate guard and the postageman.

"Good morning, officer. It's just the usual stuff. Though I also got a few things for the secretaries to look over before I go on my way," quipped Edgar. While she couldn't make out what the response was or any following conversation, she could tell their infiltration was successful when the truck began moving again.

Moments later, the school bell sounded to signal the end of the period just as the van pulled up in front of the administrative office. As students began exiting buildings, Edgar turned his head to wink at Melanie before jumping out the truck and letting out a long whistle. Immediately, he drew the attention of anyone passing, who came over to greet him.

"Hi Edgar!" "Mr. Thomason!" "Hey Mr. Edgar, whatcha doin’ over here?"

Edgar laughed as people surrounded him. Fistbumps and unique handshakes were exchanged. "Morning, kids! Just got some things to take care of with the office folk. Hey James, how's the luck with Lucy? Really? Nice! Still struggling with math, Gabby? What? Stop calling you that? Sure, Gabe. Not much better? Come on, it's not so bad..."

Melanie rolled her eyes at his cheerfulness. She wasn't sure how he manages it. While the students were distracted, Melanie quietly snuck out of the van and slinked into the crowd. She considered going directly to the Commons, but remembered she had an extra package on hand. It was a little something that she swiped while procuring the chimera; something she was pretty sure the absent residents wouldn't miss.

Twisting back, she whipped out a Sharpie to quickly scratch an address on the rough parchment  before entering the swarm around Edgar. She casually raised a hand, but her height made it easy to catch eyes anyways.

"Hey Mr. Thomason!" She beckoned. "Could you do me a favor and deliver this? It should still be on your route." She tossed the parcel in his direction, which he promptly caught in his right hand.

"Sure thing, Ms. Karras," he replied with an effortless tip of his hat. "Now, everyone, I’ve got a job to do, so excuse me." As the students gave their goodbyes to the courier and began dispersing, Melanie herself made leave.

She walked down the white concrete path towards the Commons, where she smelled the aroma of warming packaged food wafting from the cafeteria. _No matter what school you go to, you can't escape the lunches._ Melanie mused before hearing the growl of her stomach. _It's better than most other options, though._ She considered making a stop at the kitchens, but decided on lynching an apple and a baloney sandwich from the plate of an unwary freshman. _Too bad I don't need them,_ she thought with a smirk and continued on her way.

The academy grounds were awfully spacious for a high school. There were separate, multilevel buildings for each subject, and students were expected to walk between classes. It was supposed to emulate a college campus, but Melanie always found it to be a pain. _At least there are more places to hide._

She crossed into the Commons and scanned the circular pavilion until she spotted a familiar flicker of silver past the bustling crowd.

Under a distant maple tree sat a slender boy in a dull grey sweater. His short platinum blonde hair jostled slightly in the breeze as he glared at the notepad in his lap. Occasionally, his gloved hands would scratch in it with a stark orange pencil, but, for the most part, he was motionless in his study. His concentration was so intense that he did not notice Melanie creeping up behind him with a mischievous grin.

"What do we have here?" She slyly asked as she snatched up his book, her eyes gleaming. Instinctively, he twisted around and pulled back his arm into a fist, but dropped it when he saw who it was.

"Melanie, could you _please_ stop doing that?" William Vinter requested flatly. His icy blue eyes sent chills up her spine, but she never failed to hide it. She just chuckled at his annoyance as she looked over his uniform handwriting. Her amused expression twisted into a grimace.

"Ew, an essay?" She said with a wrinkle of her nose. "Since when did we have this?"

"Since _today_ , in English." He huffed and plucked the notebook out of her hands. "You know, the period you were suspiciously absent from? And the rest of the morning? I was kind of hoping to not see you today, but here you are, not sick in any way or form. I even called your home phone. No answer."

She rolled her eyes. "And you are saying...?"

"I'm saying you need to stop skipping. All your unexcused absences will affect your record, and that'll mess with your scholarship here.” His brows furrowed. “What do you even do when you skip? There's nothing to do on campus outside of class."

Melanie waved him off and lazily took a bite out of her apple. They've been friends since intermediate school, and she've grown used to his lawful outlook and badgering habits. Likewise, William had become accustomed to her craftiness and clownish teasing. Still, no matter how long they've known each other, there was no way she'd tell the son of the police commissioner about her choice of career.

"Pfft, _anything_ is better than listening to Mrs. Wyrm or Mr. Asche drone." A memory sparked and her eyes widened. "Speaking of Mr. Asche-"

He quickly holds up a finger. "Not another word."

"-where did you go yesterday? I can't think of any good reason for you to get excused." Upon seeing his glare, she put on an innocent smile. "What? Did you expect something else?"

William hesitated and shift uncomfortably. "My father... how much have you heard about the situation at Home? Dragonhome, I mean."

She shrugged. "Not much. Didn't really care. Something about a _thing_ happening at a Thanksgiving party."

"It was a family reunion for the Hamilton family and their friends. Thirty-one confirmed dead and over fifteen missing, all in one night.” He raised his hands disbelievingly. “How could you know so little? It's been on nearly every news report in the country!"

Melanie blinked, pulled out her newspaper, and read the main headline.

_**"SWORNCLIFF MASSACRE: THE DISASTER THAT SHOOK THE NATION"**_

_Huh._ While Melanie never really paid much attention to the news and preferred looking at all the smaller snippets than the headlines, she wondered how she could've missed something so big. _Must be off my game today._

William glanced at the paper and groaned. "Did they really have to add that subtitle?" He sighed.

"Hmm? What's so bad about it?"

He rested his back against the cold wood of the maple tree. "It's a pun. There was a convenient tremor soon after it was reported to the police. Parts of the manor caved in, you know. And it looks like the writers just took the situation and ran."

She smiled. "Pfft. There it is, my new respect for reporters. Bless the press. Now,” She said, moving closer to the tree herself. “What about the thing?"

"Ahem. Yes.” He coughed awkwardly. “My dad offered to take me with him to look at the manor as experience."

She cooed. "Aww, how sweet. Father and son, off to examine a house full of dead people. Family bonding at its finest. Hey, do you think it's haunted?"

William twisted his glare back around. He was obviously getting tired of her interruptions, but Melanie loved to mess with him. _He'd lead such a boring life without me._ "Shut up. No, it's not haunted. Ghosts aren't real. Anyways, the scene was... not what I expected."

"Oh?" She raised a brow. The normally stoic boy shifted his eyes away from her. Now this has to be interesting. "Do tell."

However, before he could answer, whatever discussion there was going to be was smothered by the thunder of distant shouting.

"Do you see this blasphemy?" Exploded a male voice. Nearby stood two students, a short girl in bright orange and a taller boy in an ironed blue suit.

The female was obviously Asian, but she didn’t seem to value the normal conservative traditions Melanie usually saw among the local populace. Her outfit was form-fitting and daring, and her body built with defined muscles. The only remote thing she found orthodox about the girl’s appearance was her black hair, pulled into a neat bun behind her head. Unsurprisingly, it was also dipped in bright red dye. She seemed familiar, most likely seen around the halls, but Melanie couldn’t care less about her. She was more concerned about her companion.

The male had fair skin, sharp features, and dull blue eyes. He would've been the picture-perfect model for a future businessman. In fact, he was. The boy was Richard Price, the young heir of Tempest Corporations, one of the largest technological manufacturers in the world, and he was in many of her classes due to them both being sophomores. _Naturally,_ he was entirely full of himself and felt entitled to do whatever he pleases. Melanie felt her smile drop and her blood boil simply upon hearing his voice.

They were looking over a sheet of paper, the young man fuming.

"Looks like you just got beat," the girl beside him exclaimed. "Second out of a class of a hundred. Have any guesses on who's number one?"

His hands wrung the edges of the page. "Tsk! They don't matter. _This_ doesn't matter. Damn class rankings." Richard growled. Momentarily conflicted on whether or not to crumple the sheet, he instead folded it firmly into a small square and shoved it into his pocket. His companion patted him comfortingly on the back, and they walked off, presumably to their next class.

Watching them loudly chatter into the distance, William beside her scoffed. "Could those two get any louder? Are they deaf?" Melanie took another bite of her apple in response. She was getting irritated just by looking at them.

"Nah, they just need everyone around them to know what they goddamn think." She said through her chewing, earning her a raised brow. "What? I never liked the privileged sort. You see that scrub, Richard? He has, like, all the resources in the country at his fingertips, yet he probably hadn't done a scrap of work in his life. He and most everybody here probably wouldn't know a struggle if one slapped them in the face." _Bastards like him only care about money._

"Says the girl who skips half the school day." William muttered through his own chewing. Somewhere, he procured some cookies, most likely from the Swiss Army bag propped to his side, but Melanie was wise enough not to try and separate the boy from his precious pastries.

She rolled her eyes. "Don't you bring that up again, I heard you the first time. And _I'm_ different."

Suddenly, a tall, slender figure only known as Alan Sky, the school's “idol superstar”, leapt out from behind her and ran in the direction of the disappearing pair, leaving a trail of wind in his path.

His parents were both famous actors, known for their performance in the movie _Twisting Crescendo_. She never liked that film, and his association with it gave her an unfair dislike of the boy. It didn't help that the he had a reputation of going through relationships as quickly as Kleenex. Despite said reputation, his fan club only grew in size, both girls _and_ boys swooning over his face, feet, and ability to charm most everyone he meets. Melanie generally abhors the community.

Before she could react, another, far shorter figure brushed her side and muttered a small "sorry" as she passed, clearly trailing the dashing Junior. The girl, with her long brown hair and soft pink attire, was awfully petite and pretty, and she couldn't have been older than fifteen years. Melanie wondered if she was a new member of Alan's fan club or something, but then the older teen slowed down to allow her to catch up.

Melanie frowned, sensing that something was amok. Already having lost her appetite, she tossed the remains of her lunch to the side and got up to her feet.

"Where are you going?" William called. The tone in his voice signaled that he knew she was up to no good.

"Just a bit of espionage. Something tells me that those two," she pointed at the fleeing pair, "have something _I_ need to know."

"Melanie-" He started to object, but it was too late. She had already began walking away, knowing that her friend would grudgingly gather up his items and follow rather than let her get herself into trouble.

It wasn't hard to track them; she just had to follow the enthusiastic shouting. She regained sight of the pair at the same time they caught up to Richard and his friend. Melanie took cover behind some flowerbeds and felt William crouch down beside her. They were well hidden from the sight of the other students, the bright red and yellow chrysanthemums obscuring their persons.

"Hey Mr. Sparks!" Alan greeted. The heir turned to meet him, scowling. The Junior tipped backwards. "Whoa there, man, you look pissed."

"None of your business," he spat in reply. The girl in orange stepped out from behind, her hands on her hips.

" _Richard,_ " she started, "is a little bit upset about his class rank. And no hello to me?"

Alan tipped his head and his eyes widened. "Oh! Sorry Akira! I didn't see you there. What's up?" He was immediately elbowed in the ribs by the girl in pink. Melanie gained newfound respect for the mysterious follower. "Oh yeah, right! You guys, me and Pinky here have something important to ask you. Keep your voices low 'cause it's super secret."

"As if they could try." Melanie muttered to herself, earning a small "shush" from William. She smirked at him, to which he simply rolled his eyes and continued to watch the students.

They _did_ manage to restrict their voice to whispers, but Melanie didn't need to listen in too much. She was too busy being entertained by their occasional shouts of "What?" or "Why?" and the range of their faces, which shifted from dismissive, to confusion, to frustration. Notably, “Pinky” had said very little, relying on the Junior for most of the discussion. She seemed awkward and out of place among the group they formed.

Their conversation abruptly ended when the school bell rang, causing them to jump.

"Fuck, we're late!" Cried Akira and quickly jogged away, not even stopping to look back at the others.

Richard cursed under his breath. "Thanks Alan." He snarked before running himself. Melanie internally snickered at his distress.

The older teen, completely ignoring the sarcasm, waved away to the pair. "See you guys later! And remember about Starfall!" He was elbowed by "Pinky" again, which was somewhat difficult for her due to their height difference.

"Stop yelling, we're supposed to keep this on a low profile." She chided. Her voice was quiet and airy, but was surprisingly lower than Melanie expected.

He pouted. "Sorry, but I don't like this whole business. This stuff is special! We should be telling-"

"Nobody will believe us." She interrupted with a sigh. "We had a hard enough time trying to convince the Stormcatcher and the Flamecaller, and that's just because of their subconscious."

 _Stormcatcher. Flamecaller. Those sound familiar,_ Melanie thought with a frown. _Had I heard of them before?_

"Right, that's who they were. I forgot. I think it’s easier just to use their actual name? Or... that is their actual name, but not actually actual-actual name? Like, actual as-in human name? That actual?” His eyes flicked upwards at the sky in confusion, then back down to his companion, who was equally befuddled. "This is sad. Come on, let's grab some lunch, I'm starving."

The girl looked as if she was about to make an argument but paused and relented, and the two walked away back to the cafeteria. When the coast seemed clear, Melanie stood from her hiding place and sat down on the edge of the flower box. She felt a hand on her shoulder and turned to face her friend.

"That made literally no sense to me, but it sounded... _concerning._ " William said bluntly. "Have any idea what that was?"

"Nope, but they mentioned Starfall and something secret, and that's good enough." Melanie replied with a smirk. Starfall was the name of the obscure bookshop the town had. She used to steal reading material for her younger sister, Eileen, from there, though she hadn't made any trips in years.

"Good enough for what? Don't tell me you're going."

"What?" She gasped exaggeratedly. " _No,_ of course not. Why would you ask that? I am _most definitely_ going. It sounds exciting."

William, ever disapproving, deepened his frown. Melanie took the moment to compare him to her sister's grumpy pet cat, Imp. "Well, I'm not. I don't muddle in the affairs of others like you."

"Whatever, suit yourself." She glanced at a nearby post clock. "We still have a good half hour left of the block. Brought the chess board?"

He shook his head. "Not today. I need to carry some extra things for a project this week."

"Got some charcoal then? Because I've been doing enough nothing this morning and I need something to do." He nodded and the two began a their walk back to their usual tree.

"So... you're into metal?" Melanie asked.

William sputtered and jerked his head away. "Sh-shut up! We aren't talking about that!"

She laughed and began walking ahead, looking forward to the shortening days.

* * *

_110 Starwood St._

Melanie found herself in front of an L-shaped building made of white wood and tanned stone, its long windows draped in opaque curtains. It contrasted starkly against the bright orange and gold of the autumn leaves carpeting the rooftops and roads, but something about it made the little store seem inconspicuous. It was after school, and she was alone. William and Eileen stayed behind to attend History Club, likely discussing about old rocks and other junk she couldn't care less about.

She, now that she thought about it, wasn't sure why she came. What was in there for her? Curiosity wasn't one of her main traits, and there probably wasn't anything valuable within the dusty walls of the ancient store. Melanie looked up at the sky, the where a blanket of dark grey clouds loomed menacingly in the distance. She could probably go get that figurine appraised, sold, and get home before the rain starts. There were some people she knew that could speed the process along even faster.

Melanie did _not_ jump when the door opened in front of her.

"Young lady, it's best not to idle out here in this weather. Please come inside." An old voice creaked.

Beside the entrance stood a shriveled small man with wispy white hair, silvery eyes, and skin she could've sworn was made of paper. Despite his formless overcoat, she could tell he was very thin and wouldn't be that difficult to push over.

His words were kind, but she couldn't help but find them somewhat _foreboding_ , as if he had been expecting her.

Looking down at the elder, she brushed past him without saying a word. Admittedly, she was lost without a real plan. She wasn't sure what she was looking for or what she was doing. But any anticipation wouldn't have prepared her for what waited inside.

The store was both emptier and more cluttered than she recalled it to be. On one hand, there were far less shelves standing, leaving a large empty space in the middle of the shop. On the other, pushed to the walls were large shards of collapsed wood, parts appearing to have been burnt off. Rectangles of shiny waxed floor marked where long-unmoved furnishing once stood against the worn boards. Plastic bags filled with scraps of paper sat in the corners of the room and the scent of shredded iron wafted through the air. There was a vaguely anthropomorphic hole in the leftmost wall that extended to a path of the floor below, revealing the foundation and the inner workings of the building.

In other words, it was a disaster.

"...what the hell happened here?" Melanie breathed. Quiet footsteps echoed behind her.

"There was an incident yesterday." The shopkeeper bemused. "Terrible, really. I'm afraid the store is closed for the time being."

She was confused. "Then why let me in?"

"Well, I have a favor to ask you. I am an old man, and I sent out my grandson on an errand, but I'm afraid there are some things neither of us would be able to do. Not without specific skills."

 _A favor?_ Melanie felt indignation rise within her. _Who does this hoary mule think he is? Who does he think I-_

"I have some valuable items and information to provide in return."

_Oh, he means business. I can work with that._

"What kind of 'items' are we talking about?" She inquired, hoping for more details on the offer.

Knowing she wouldn't do the task without knowing what she was in for, he waved her to wait at the the counter. She weighed herself on the table as the man floated into the backroom to emerge with a muted lavender satchel. It was oddly misshapen, and it looked as if it belonged attached to a saddle rather than slung over a shoulder.

The old man rummaged through the contents to pull out a flat, ordinate box made of blackened wood, the edges carved into twisting vines and embedded with reflective blue gems resembling mushrooms. The top panel was checkered with thin slabs of pale grey granite and glistening obsidian, leading to Melanie's realization that the box was, in fact, a game board. She had never seen anything like it. _Something so unique could cost a fortune. This is_ mine.

"There's this, for one. No touching." The man said, gesturing one hand over it.

However, she was entranced, and she reached over, fingers floating hazardously over the box only for the piece to suddenly vanish from the counter before the wood could be grazed.

"I just said not to touch it." Scolded the elder. Melanie, while bewildered by the disappearance of the board, quickly put up a facade of nonchalance and shrugged him off.

"That just makes me want to, you know." She replied with a smug grin.

His brows furrowed, but he left the matter alone. "So, what do you think? You could have that artifact if you can fulfill a favor for me."

"You hadn't said anything about what you wanted, though."

"I'd like to know if I have your cooperation first."

She looked over to the purple bag discarded on the back counter. No, she thought, it's pink. The satchel was a dusty rose. Melanie blinked, as she remembered it to be lavender. It was now a dull fuchsia. She blinked again. Thistle. Melanie, becoming dizzy and confused, decided that it was for the best of her health that she stop looking at it.

"Well, I'm all ears as long as that sack isn't part of it." She pointed. It was lavender again. _Damn._

He shook his head. "It isn't, I assure you. The request is rather simple, but it may prove to be more difficult than it sounds. I need you to find the young man named Henry Hamilton, and you must escort him here."

 _Hamilton? Didn't I just have a conversation about them?_ Within her mind, a plan started to brew. _I don't know any of them personally, but I've heard that they're entirely devoted to their family. If Henry is a Sworncliff Hamilton, then he can't be taking the Massacre well. Considering I haven't seen any pity-parties at school this week, he must be staying home... but Dragonhome is currently under police investigation. Must be with friends._

"Do you have any leads? Anyone he could be staying with?" Melanie asked.

The man idly tapped at the counter. "He's officially staying at the home of the Ward family, but I had already tried calling. He hasn't been in. I suggest asking Ms. Melissa Lyffe, an... acquaintance of his. She lives up at the Sundial Terrace. I can’t recollect the exact address, but it should be recognizable by the large garden in the front."

 _Lyffe._ Melanie knew that name. She gave him a wicked smile and reached out out her hand. "Consider the deal done. I'll be back before you know it. Nice doing business with you, Mister...." She trailed off. It just struck her that she didn't know his name.

"Castor." He clarified. He clasped his withered fingers around her's, and she felt his brittle skeleton barely protected by the thin layer of skin that wrapped it. She shook it carefully, as if his hand could fall apart any second even under a weak grasp. He didn't seem to be bothered. "Albert Castor. Pleased make your acquaintance, Melanie Karras."

Her eyes narrowed and she retracted her hand. "'I never told you my name."

He only smiled eerily, and Melanie felt apprehensive. "I realize that, young lady." His face was unrevealing, and it came to her that she was dealing with someone experienced. "It's rather horrible to be kept in the dark, don't you think?" _There is a lot more behind this man than to be seen. I might have bitten off more than I can chew._

"I... should go now." Melanie briskly twisted from the counter and made for the door. She expected for Castor to call out to her, but the man stayed silent at the table. Quietly, she exited the small building of white wood and tanned stone and crossed the road, the sound of fire echoing through the murky weather as they crunched beneath her feet.

_Definitely off my game today._

* * *

_910 Sundial Ter._

The bronze plaque, while worn, glinted in the lamp light that glowed against the darkened sky. Greeting Melanie was an iron gate entangled with clinging ivy and woodland creepers. Past the fence were flowerbeds full of lilies, daisies, chrysanthemums, and many other plants she couldn't name in a myriad of colors. Trees and hedges towered above the grand garden, over seeing the twisting brick pathway that navigated the lawn towards the grey tile roof peeking in the distance.

 _I always thought this was a park._ Melanie paled. _Did I remember the address right?_ She looked around for any clues. She couldn't see very far past the shrubbery, but there were other houses on the sides of the enclosure. A mailbox stood at the curb, but it was empty; not much else around revealed the name of the residents. Melanie took a deep breath. _Well, I only have one way to find out._

As loudly as she could, she _barked._ Repeatedly, she coughed up her best imitation of a dog chasing an intruder. At first, there was only silence, causing Melanie to grow nervous, but soon she heard a familiar howl from within the glade, the frantic snapping of twigs signaling an approach.

Smiling on her correct memorization and accurate mimicking ability, she broke into a brisk stride, following the iron fence around the perimeter. Loud crunchings of plant life trailed after her, but the rows of greenery blocked any view of the creature.

_She said there was a backdoor._

Finally, Melanie located a rusted gate, thick spanning vines binding the entry to its post. There was an padlock, but it was already broken, so it hung limply on its hook. She unlatched the gate and swung it open, surprised by the quiet creak of the bare iron. When she entered the yard, a large spotted harrier jotted up to her, its long tongue licking bared teeth and its tail wagging. Undeterred, she bent down and scratched the dog behind its ears. It stretched under her hand and made a low, content growl.

"Hey, Mirror, glad to see you. This is T's place, isn't it?" The harrier jumped to place a slobbery lick on her face, and Melanie just laughed. "Good dog, yes, good dog. Take me to your mother?"

Delighted, Mirror dashed off howling, and Melanie took her time to appreciate her surroundings as she followed. _Whoever maintains the garden does a remarkable job._ She noted, strolling down the line of sparse flattened grass. _Everything is so green and colorful, especially by fall standards._ A stray branch slapped Melanie's forehead, and she ducked under it while cursing her height. _Nobody seems to pay attention back here though,_ she internally grumbled. _The trees and shrubs are untrimmed; good for cover, but not for aesthetics._

The dirt path shifted to cobblestone beneath her feet and the wild overgrowth around her became tame. Eventually, she came to a clearing where a wide stone porch was protruding from the brick manor. The dog was waiting near a mossy birdbath filled with clear water and splashing sparrows, and, when she entered the yard, it padded over to the back door and slipped through its personal entrance. Melanie took a seat on a porch swing and idly rocked her feet until Mirror returned, owner in tow.

After an extensive sequence of clicking, the door unlocked to reveal a gangly girl dressed in a loose t-shirt, black jeans, and a wine leather jacket. Her skin as pale as bone, broken only by the splatter of freckles against her sunken features. Her hair, choppy and uneven, was a dark brown, but she could see flecks of red glinting in the dim sunlight. The color reflected in her eyes, which sweeped the back yard for disturbance. When they came to her, her annoyed scowl lifted into a toothy grin.

"Finally!" Theresa Lyffe exclaimed, marching over to where she was sitting. "Someone I'm happy to see! What's up, Shades? Need a place to bunker?” She flopped down onto the bench and slung an arm over her shoulder, and Melanie shifted to avoid the spikes embedded into the arms of her sleeves. Mirror sauntered along and hopped into its owner's lap, reaching its paw to scratch at her skirt.

"Heya, T. Nah, I don't got anything so bad.” Melanie gazed around the yard. “I didn't know you lived in a nature reserve."

"Ugh, blame my stepfamily. They're a bunch of hippies. They don't eat meat, like what the fuck? But who cares about them; what are you doing here?"

"I just got this dumbass errand to run, but what am I to do?" She relaxed her posture and stroked the dog's head. "Know where your sister is?"

Theresa grimaced. "Ew, what'd you need to see that brat for?"

Melanie shrugged. "As said, dumbass errand. You know that bookshop down on Starwood? The owner is looking for that Hamilton guy, but he's been AWOL."

"Sworncliff has a bookshop?" She asked in confusion, but then shook her head. "Wait, no, doesn't matter. I know where he is. He's been at the Boneyard, but I didn't know he hasn’t been going home. I only know that 'cause I can't hang out over there without seeing his soulless husk sitting by. Also, his girlfriend up there," she gestured up towards a closed second story window, "can't stop being a whiny little bitch."

 _Girlfriend? That explains the connection._ Melanie thought amusedly, but then recalled a detail.

"Wait, the Boneyard? That’s, like, five miles outside of town. What would he be doing over there?" The Boneyard was what the locals called the graveyard by the tangled woods east of town. She never had much reason to go there, but it was a favored meeting place for many of the rebellious students at the academy, including Theresa. As long as they have the transportation to make it that far, anyways.

"Well, where else are they going to bury a house full of dead guys? That place is as Sworncliff as any other part of town, and that family lives here. Did, anyways." She retracted her arm and turned to look at Melanie.

"Look, I don't know what you're gonna do with him, but I don't think he's going anywhere. Nothing Girlscout and I could do to even get a _blink_ of reaction. I can give you a lift if you don't wanna walk, but unless you're a necromancer, he ain't saying nothing."  Before she could ask, Theresa quickly added. "I wanted to see if if I could get him off my turf. It's awkward being over there with him around."

Melanie gave her a thoughtful look, but became dismissive. "Ehh, I'll think of something. I got a few tricks up my sleeve. If nothing works, then I need your help to drag him out." She rose from the porch swing, and Harrier lifted its head. "Come on, T, I want to finish this job before the rains starts to pour. You wanna come Mirror?"

"Nah, I need him to stay here to cover for me if I don't get home before my mom does." Theresa said, and pushed her dog off, who leaped onto the grassy floor and wandered back into the maze of green, his head hanging.

"How could he do that?" She asked skeptically. Theresa's mother was a teacher at the academy, who taught Biology. Had having her before as a freshman, she recalled the many months working under the strict teacher, her word law. It was strange how someone like her could've raised a daughter as adaptable as Theresa. _Or any daughter at all,_ Melanie argued.

The other stood up and started walking, conjuring up keys from a jacket pocket as she moved. "If enough things outside are messed up enough, then I must be somewhere trashing something, and that's a good enough reason not to be found." She replied. _How reasonable._ Melanie shook her head and followed the girl down the cobblestone road towards the front.

They came to a metal garage door, and Theresa, despite her near skeletal figure, pushed up the shield with ease. It was spacious enough to hold two cars, but what they found was a bright red motorcycle. The paint was littered in scratches from the last scrap they whisked their rider from, but other than that, it appeared to be in good maintenance.

Theresa tossed her a spare helmet and swung a leg over the vehicle. "Get on." Melanie put it on and complied, taking a seat behind her. The engine roared to life under her friend's grip, and the two lurched forward, gliding down the stone driveway and out the automatic gate, a crimson streak down the asphalt road, past the dusky walls, under the ashen sky.

* * *

They flew down the long, twisting street to a small parking lot. It was mostly empty save for a silver minivan. Theresa pulled over and switched off the ignition.

"This is as far we can go without going off turf." She said as she pulled off her helmet. "Need me to come with?"

Melanie removed her own. "Keep with me in case we need to slap some sense into him. Literally. You'll get bored out here otherwise."

The biker replied with a grunt and the two strolled down a short dirt trail towards a brick enclosing in the distance. Over the gate was a stone sign, but the original writing was too eroded to be read, leaving a subtle engraving under pitch black graffiti saying _"The Boneyard"_.

Rows of graves stood in orderly columns across the dry scrub, layers of sediment disrupted by the tears of the morose and the gifts of fresh flora. The air was stiff, and bare trees reached for heavens they'll never touch. A quiet, bubbling creek cut through the earth, attempting to revive the lifeless land that was made to house the dead, though its efforts were unfound.

"This place seems more abiding than I remembered it to be." Melanie hummed as they walked down the path.

"Might be the arrival of all the new bodies. The massacre is too recent, so the place needs more time to adjust to the jump of population. It’s all stiff right now."

"So spiritual. I am touched by your insight."

"I don't need your smart-ass comments right now, Shady." Theresa pointed into the distance. "If he hasn't moved, he should still be at the memorial they built in the corner."

"Really? I half suspected for him to be at the mausoleum."

She shrugged. "I think he has too much respect for the dead to enter the tombs."

They reached a small area surrounded with potted flowers, their vibrancy slowly wilting from the somber atmosphere. The memorial itself was a lot smaller than Melanie expected. The main attraction was a plaque with the list of the attendants of the party embossed on it. In addition, there was a bronze miniature replica of the dragon statue found in the Home courtyard, the feature that gave the lot the nickname Dragonhome. It was placed at the top of the plaque, guarding the names of the honored dead from violators.

Theresa sighed. "Aaand he's still here. Yo, Giant! You awake?"

Looking over to where she was yelling, Melanie was surprised by the silent figure sitting motionlessly on a neglected bench. He loosely wore a dull blue sweater, tan heavy overcoat, and worn jeans, but they had difficulty concealing the obvious bulk of his body. His dark skin was battered from exposure to wind and sun, and the curls of his even darker hair was mixed with dust. His broad shoulders were squared, his large hands were clenched into tight fists, and his brown eyes of his blank face were soulless as they gazed into nothingness in front of him.

In other words, he was both one of the most intimidating _and_ one of the loneliest figures she had ever seen.

“You think he can hear?” Melanie asked faintly. “Because he isn’t something easy to drag.”

“Maybe. If he can, he sure ain’t listening. And don’t worry about getting handled, he’s a huge goddamn softy. Fucking kittens and sunshine.”

Nonetheless they cautiously approached the bench, though Henry didn't seem to notice their arrival in favor of the space in front of him. Melanie gave an experimental wave of her hand across his face, but he remained static. Theresa attempted to give his arm a shove, yet it wouldn't budge. She gave Melanie a side glance and raised a brow. After being returned a nod, she promptly pulled her arm back and slammed her fist square into the young man’s heavy jaw. There was a loud _crack_ , and Theresa quickly withdrew her hand back, shaking out her fingers as she clenched her teeth.

“ _Oww..._ bad idea.” She breathed shallowly and sank down onto the bench herself, nursing her swollen knuckle. “Like punching a goddamn wall. A brick one.”

Meanwhile, Melanie had sat down at Henry’s side, leaning in to study his face. Her spindly fingers brushed his stubbled cheek, looking for any abnormalities, but their wasn’t even a bruise. Incredible, she swore. _An immovable object. He can’t possibly be real._

Suddenly, she became aware how exactly immobile he is. His eyes, staring off into the distance, haven’t blinked once the entire time she was looking at him. Melanie hovered a hand over his face, and her blood ran cold.

“T, are you _sure_ this is him?”

Theresa looked up. “Huh? What kind of question is that? Of course I am.”

“He isn’t breathing.”

_“What?”_

The biker grabbed at his head, and, to the surprise of both of them, managed to shift it, if only slightly. His eyes, too, moved, but only enough to continue his fixation on the memorial. _He is not actually a statue doppelganger. There goes Situation G2, thankfully._ Melanie inwardly sighed in relief and the other looked over the rest of him.

“Shit, there’s _stuff_ growing on his shoes!” Theresa shouted. Melanie sharply bent forward, and her eyes laid on the creeping green growth hanging on the end of his jeans.

“Wha-is that even right? Can moss do that?”

Her friend jumped to her feet. “I have no idea, but we need to get this guy out of here before he dies from rock-eating plants.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s not how moss works, but I’m all on board. What’s the plan?” Melanie said, leaning back. Theresa pointed at the boy, still unresponsive.

“Okay okay, the plan is… I got this: we talk _shit_ about things he likes in his face until he gets so _pissed_ , he forgets to be sad.”

Melanie glanced over Henry’s thick arms beside her and gave Theresa a look. “That’s… probably not the best of ideas.”

“Well, you have any better ones?”

“...no, not really.” She admitted apathetically. “We better just get out of this in one piece. You know I hate running. Now, do we got a topic or something, or is there improv…?”

Theresa scratched her chin. “Ah, shitting about Girlscout won’t do anything since I do it all the time... Family might make him a little _too_ pissed…” Her eyes wandered around the yard. “I don’t know anything about his friends, so… err...”

_Crack!_

Their heads, sans Henry, whipped towards the entrance to watch a headstone smash into chunks as Mirror barreled through the yard. He stumbled over the scattering rubble, but he never lost velocity. He charged towards its owner, who dodged just in time for him to brush her leg as it crashed into a row of flowerpots, spilling the soil as it tumbled to a stop.

Melanie gaped at Theresa, eyes wide. “Didn’t you tell him to stay back home?”

Bewildered, she shook her head. “Yeah, but… That’s it!” Realization dawned, and she broke into a wicked grin.

“What- what’s it?”

“Fucker owns a turtle. Only goddamn thing that survived the massacre in one piece. That’s _something._ I think it was named Chomper or Flicker or something. We can talk shit about that-”

“It’s a tortoise.” Mumbled a gruff voice.

They froze. Melanie slowly turned her head to look at look at the figure next to her. Henry was no longer looking at the memorial. Instead, he was watching the white and brown Harrier recover from his fall into the pile of dirt, leaves, and shattered clay. Shaking the soil from his coat, Mirror noticed the large boy staring at him, and, soon later, a worn hand open his palm towards him. He paused, as if to churn memory, and he happily pawed its way out of the destruction to lick Henry’s thick fingers.

“Snapper is a tortoise, not a turtle.” He repeated, his voice a scratchy rumble from disuse. “Hello, Mirror.” The dog barked and made a small dance on it’s hind legs upon being called. Melanie became absently amused before coming to her senses.

“Somebody is awake.” She greeted, pleased that his rousing wasn’t as difficult as it first seemed. He turned his head from the Harrier, and his eyes blinked in revelation.

“Oh! I didn’t notice you… my bad. Good… afternoon..?” She nodded in confirmation, and he sighed in relief. “You’re… Melanie? The sister of Eileen?” His expression changed very little, but his voice had become sheepish.

“Have we met?” Melanie doesn’t recall meeting him before.

“You came to get her during from a History Club meeting, and she introduced you. I have a very good memory... usually.” He looked up at the clouds. “Excuse me, but what time is it? I’ve lost track.”

“It’s three-ish. Tuesday. Basically December.”

He frowned deepened. “Oh… I missed this week’s History meeting.”

“Yeah,” called Theresa, shifting his attention to her. “You _also_ fucking missed school for two goddamn days. You missed the _entire town_ for like another five! You know that girlfriend of yours? You missed her _birthday._ ”

His shoulders sank as his eyes widened. “I… I did? I... _I forgot. Oh no._ ” He was completely horrified, and Melanie awkwardly slid away from him.

Attempting to tactfully navigate the conversation, she asked, “When was that?”

“November 25th. I promised her that I would take her to get ice cream that day. What am I supposed to do? She must be so worried.” Henry ran a hand through his hair as he shook his head. Mirror, sensing the boy’s distress, nuzzled his knee and whined.

Theresa, uncaring, whistled for her dog. “Mirror! Whatcha got for me?”

The dog’s hanging ears perked upon being reminded of his mission, left Henry’s side and dashed over to the pile of rubble from the shattered gravestone. It sniffed around before digging out a small rectangular object. Melanie only recognized it to be a smartphone by the time it had been carried over to its owner.

“Knew I was forgetting something.” Theresa said and scratched the dog’s head as she removed the slobbery device from his maw. “Good job, Mirror. Guess who’s going to get some bacon once we get back?” She paused. “Probably me, actually. I’m starving. But you’ll get some too.”

Melanie was surprised. “He ran all this way just to get you your phone?” By the hound’s cheerfulness, he didn’t look like he had traveled five miles in less than twenty minutes. Barking happily, he was overjoyed upon the promise of meat and rubbed his head against his owner’s leg.

“Yeah, and I missed an _apparently_ important call too.” She replied casually, but her brow furrowed as she squinted at the screen. “From… Starfall? It there something going on over there? Did I ask this already? Hold on, I gotta take this.” Her fingers danced across the screen, and she walked a short distance away from the memorial, phone brought to her ear.

 _Right. Starfall._ Looking back over to the boy beside her, he was nervously rubbing his neck while shuffling through the contents of his own mobile device. _Just arose from the dead and he’s already fretting over his girl. So honorable. Maybe I can work with this._

Putting on her most charming smile, she addressed him. “Henry? You have any plans? Because I have a few ideas on how to solve your problems. There’s something I need to know first, though.”

He looked down at her with a slight frown. “I don’t think the situation is as complex-”

“Sh-sh-shhh, trust me. You know my sister? She got stuff from me. I know what I’m talking about. But first, do you know the owner guy of Starfall? The bookshop?”

“You mean Mr. Castor? What about him?”

“Melissa isn’t the only person in existence who knows you. I’m pretty sure that man had never set foot in the sun and even he knows you disappeared.” She flickered her eyes across the yard for dramatic effect. “You have some amends to make. For the town.”

As she saw the astonishment and attentiveness rise in his face, her own blood began to rush. She loved to be in control. “What you need to do is go to the bookstore and go talk to Castor,” she proposed. “He has something important to say to you, and I’m sure he can help you with everything else that’s going on.” Melanie pointed towards the overcast above. “And I recommend going now. You’ve been out for too long, and people are worried.”

Visibly shaken, he quickly agreed. “You’re right. I need to go.” He sluggishly rose to his feet, ruffling the dust and, surprisingly, cobwebs from his coat. Now that he was standing, Melanie could fully see how large he was, especially compared to the thin Theresa or her own slender frame. Standing up herself, she became briefly upset that she had to tip her head to see his face.

Glancing around, he was momentarily confused. “We’re in the graveyard.”

“Yes.” She replied sarcastically. “You spent quite a bit a time outside of town. You should get back.” Melanie pointed a thumb back at the plaque and the statue. “For their sake as well. Best you go home.”

He looked over at the memorial and let out a deep breath. For a minute, Melanie thought he was going to enter a trance again, but instead he whirled back towards the entrance of the Boneyard, the dry grass flattening under his heavy footsteps. Satisfied with the outcome, she trailed in his shadow.

Theresa, who had immediately dropped her call upon noticing their movement, called out to him. “Ey, Giant? Where ya heading?” She tucked away her device and Mirror barked in echo.

“Starfall.” He responded without missing a beat.

Miffed, she trudged after him, tracking over to his side, dog in tow. “Like, now? Without eating anything? Or drinking? Are you fucking mad? Hell, you shouldn’t even be alive right now; fucking dehydration should’ve done the trick.”

He slowed down.”I suppose that’s true, but I don’t feel too different. I guess I’m a bit hungry, but I don’t really have anything on hand.”

Reaching into one of her inner jacket pockets, she whipped out some questionable strips of jerky. “Then eat this. It ain’t going to be my fault if you die.” She slapped the dried meat into his hands and pulled out another stick to chew on herself. Hesitant, he brought the strips to his nose for a sniff, but quickly recoiled and grimaced.

“I think I might have something in my car, but thank you for the offer.” He handed back the meat to Theresa, who simply shrugged and continued to snack.

“Suit yourself. Still not my fault.” She tossed the strips behind her, which were dutifully caught in the leaping jaws of her dog.

The four made it back out to the parking lot, where Henry made a beeline to the sole minivan and the girls walked towards the motorbike. The car started up quickly and hastily left the premises, leaving the rest alone in the lot. As Theresa handed Melanie her spare helmet, she looked down at Mirror beside them.

“What are we going to do with him?” She asked.

“Just let him go wherever. He’s good on getting back, I’m not worried.” She slipped on her own helmet, muffling her voice. “Let’ s go, we have a store to wreck.”

She laughed. “Actually…”

“What?”

“You know what? Nevermind. You’ll see once we get there.”

She could feel her eyes roll. “Sure sure, surprise me. Get on.”

The two pulled out of the lot and headed down the long road back to town, their surroundings becoming a blur of brown and gold. They’ve lost sight of the silver minivan, and Melanie guessed that the Hamilton must’ve known the streets inside-out. They eventually rolled to a stop at a red light despite there being nobody around. Theresa tilted her heads back to look at her, despite their faces being obscured by the helmets.

“So, uh... where is this place again?”

* * *

The clouds had completely cloaked the sky by the time they arrived.

Stepping onto the curb, they noticed a bicycle chained to a lamppost. The biker frowned.

“Oh great, _she’s_ here too.” She looked over to Melanie. “Okay, Shady, whatever you do, don’t let her take your hand. Got it?”

While confused by what she meant, she judging by her voice, there was only one option for who “she” was. “Sure, got it.” Melanie replied, and the two crossed to the store.

The first thing they heard upon opening the door was a high-pitched screaming, words spilling out rapidly like a waterfall.

“-and next week, the Greenskeepers are going to rally to collect toys for the holidays down at Reedcleft! We can go to that too! Oh oh oh, I know! I can get some tickets for this show in Heirston I’ve heard about on-”

“Lissa, please calm down,” said Henry, who stood just off from the entranceway. He was looking down at a chubby girl wrapped around his arm, looking apologetic as she strained the sleeve of his coat.

The girl had umber skin and a wild mass of black curls that tumbled over her back, and Melanie could see a few blades of grass entangled in. She dressed fairly plainly, pairing a cotton t-shirt with a short denim skirt and hiking boots, and had a large linen shoulderbag hanging at her side. Her eyes, a vibrant green, were wide with elation as she gazed upwards towards her boyfriend’s face.

“I caaaan’t!” she whined. “I’m just so happy you’re okay! And after all that, I’m not leaving you alone! Look at you! You need to eat something! And I just know the place!”

Theresa, who had entered first, walked up towards the two, hands raised and scowling. “Sorry to cut the reunion short, but what the _fuck_ are you doing here?”

Lissa turned her head, tightened her grip, and gave her a defensive glare. “ _Hi_ Theresa. I heard you were going to take Henry to Starfall, so I came here to surprise him.”

“ _Bull,_ you were on the second floor, what shit are you talking about?”

“Excuse you, but I have good hearing! You also pointed to the wrong window! _Mine_ was open!” She tips her head to look past her stepsister. “Hey hey, who’s your friend?”

Melanie, who was leaning on the doorframe, was pretending to check her nails as she listened to the girls argue. Henry, who had become ignored, sighed as he petted at Lissa’s much smaller hands.

Theresa scoffed. “Why don’t you ask her yourself? She’s, like, _right there._ ”

“Because I want to know if _you_ remember.” She sneered. “You don’t remember anybody’s name!”

“Whoa whoa whoa, names are fucking hard! Everybody I meet usually has some sort of long complicated thing that’s impossible to pronounce! It’s so much easier to just go with something shorter and easier to keep up with. And I do know her name! It’s Melanie! I think.”

“You _think?”_

“Well, she’s right.” Melanie intruded on the two, pleased. “That _is_ my name. Good job, ten points for effort.” Theresa threw a smug look at her stepsister, who stuck out her tongue and released Henry’s arm.

The umber girl bounced over to where Melanie stood and, unexpectedly, grabbed her hand into her own. Lissa shook her arm rapidly, waving it to where she felt her arm pop it’s socket.

“Hi Melanie! I’m Melissa, but everyone just calls me Lissa since it’s cuter. It’s great to meet you!” She was gleeful as she introduced herself, but Melanie was too busy trying to recover her arm to care. “Ahhh! I just realized! We can be Mel-buddies! I’m Lissa, and you can be Annie!”

“Uh, no.” Melanie laughed forcefully, managing to slip her hand from the other’s death-grip. Her hand fell limply at her side and her shoulder was hallow. _I’ll be feeling that for a while,_ she cringed inwardly, but did her best to keep a straight face. “I’ll just go with my full name, _thanks._ ” She slid away from the sisters, rubbing her arm, and her eyes flickered around the empty room. “Say, where’s the old guy?”

Henry, seeing his chance to speak, answered. “He might be deeper in the store. I haven’t gotten very far in before...well…” He gestures to Lissa, who smiled politely. Melanie and Theresa rolled their eyes. “I suggest checking the other side.” He continued and pointed behind him towards a rounding corner.

While the majority of the shop had been cleared, there was a second branch that was mostly unaffected. Melanie nodded left the group to their own devices, trusting that the older boy would keep the sisters from committing murder, and walked down the softly lit corridor, the lamps flickering as she passed.

There were still shelves standing, but, oddly, an entire row had been knocked over, the cases stacking over each other like dominoes, and unsourced sheets of paper decorated the floors. Melanie was beginning to think that the sole amount of destruction was absurd.

 _Now, if I was a mysterious old man with fancy, one-of-a-kind wares to bribe people with, where could I possibly locate myself in order to not respond to the ruckus ensuing in the front of my own store?_ Melanie thought while walking down what appears to be, from all the Bibles lining the shelves, the religious text section. Her eyes swept down the aisle, where a fresh candle was lit. Back of the room.

The back wall had tall windows draped in faded navy curtains along with a low table and a few chairs. A stack of battered green scrollcases sat in a neat stack on the table, supposedly a decoration. Beside them was a silver bowl that held a single white stick that had a small but bright flame that illuminated the area unlike the rest of the store. Stepping towards the table, Melanie saw the fire shiver violently, blinking between life and death before settling into a dimming orange flame barely clinging to the string.

 _Don’t see any grandpas here._ Melanie absently picked up an open scrollcase, shaking out the leafy parchment to find chicken- scratch that obviously wasn’t English, leading to her ignoring the content and dropping the cylinder and paper back into the pile while aimlessly looking for something to do. While Melanie was a rather patient person, she acknowledges that she has a busy list of things to do, and waiting for Castor to appear wasn’t on it.

“If you send me to do a quick, simple errand, you _might as well_ be here when I get back…” Melanie grumbled, shifting the curtain to glance out the window, which was surprisingly reflective between the shadow outside and the glow indoors.

Melanie had smooth, light skin that not as pale as Theresa’s, but not as warm as the likes of Richard’s. It contrasted sharply against her jet black hair, her long locks straight as it flowed down her back, giving an illusion of figure that wasn’t distinct and providing her the image of an elegant, aloof young woman. However, her most striking feature, and her most _hated,_ were her eyes. A steely violet, they casted her separate from the more common colors that filled the town and academy. It wasn’t being different that made her uncomfortable, however. In fact, her unique irises either keep people wary and away from her, which was most appreciated due to her lifestyle, or enthralls them, making them easier to persuade to her cause.

It was because they were the same as _his._

Her mother had warm, brown eyes, ones that gave her a sense of belonging and happiness that only beloved family could give, and her little sister shared them. Oh, but not Melanie. She had to get the eyes of her father, _the lousiest son-of-a-bitch in America._ His eyes were the ones given to his eldest daughter, out of all genetic probability. No matter how _pretty_ or _mystical_ she’s told her eyes are are, she will never be able to appreciate them thanks to the _asschap_ that man was.

Melanie quickly re-covered the window. She despised seeing her reflection. But, before she replaced the curtain, a flash of cyan caught her eye, and she saw a moving shape from the farthest row from her original entrance, disappearing behind the shelves. She moved to chase after the shape, but, after turning the corner, she was greeted by empty space.

 _Weird…_ She narrowed her gaze, and she cautiously began walking down the aisle, making a few feet before stepping on something blocky and hard. Melanie removed her foot to find a dark shard of what looked to be glass or a crystal. Picking it up, the item was barely shorter than the width of her palm, and was only about two centimeters thick. The chip, when lifted up to the yellow light, appeared to be tinted a dark blue, and flecks of smoke could be seen within the surface. It wasn’t of any material she recognized.

 _Goddamn,_ she thought and tapped at the shard. _This is one ugly rock. Could probably cut somebody with this, though._ She turned the crystal around in her hand before the candlelight began shuddering again, blinking out behind her. She turned around to find her best friend standing by the table, staring at the dead candle bewilderedly.

“William,” Melanie called out to him, eyebrow raised. “What are you doing here?”

The boy, still looking at the candle, muttered, “How did… I didn’t even… _whatever._ ” He turned to her. “Melanie, I was looking for you. Though, I might ask you the same.”

She spreaded her arms, gesturing to the walls around them. “We talked about the whole Starfall thing earlier today, remember? Here I am.”

He waved his hands at her. “No no, I didn’t mean that. I _do_ remember. I’m talking about why you’re here. At the back of the store. In the dark. Alone.”

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, don’t be paranoid. I was just looking for the owner guy, ‘cause he ain’t up in the front and he needs to get me this thing I need. And it wasn’t always this dark. You just blew out that candle. And there are still those lamps.”

“Hey, I just stood right next to it. Not my fault it decided to burn out.” He scratched his chin. “Maybe he’s in the backroom? Sounds the most logical.” William suggested.

“Nah, he can’t be in there unless he’s deaf and can’t hear the catfight just at the counter, and I know he hears just fine.” She pauses before opening her palm to him, showing the glass object to him. “Hey, by the way, have you seen anything like this? You like rocks and stuff, right?”

He grunted. “No, I don’t like ‘rocks and stuff’. If you’re talking about that jewelry I made, I was using colored glass. This,” William plucked the shard from her hand and examined it in his gloved own. “I...I don’t know. Doesn’t seem like glass, but I don’t recognize the kind of mineral.” Melanie watched amusedly as he tapped at the rock, unaware his eye for detail is getting used to gauge value. “The material is hard, but the surface wouldn’t be hard to scratch. I wouldn’t recommend using this as any kind of lasting inset. Probably not worth much. Where’d you find this?”

Melanie pointed to the spot right next to her and made a very affirmative “Here.”

“There?” He asked disbelievingly. “Who leaves crystals in a bookshop?”

 _Secret criminal masterminds suffering from old-age-induced memory loss._ Melanie was just joking with herself, but the possibility was there. “Dunno. Maybe somebody dropped it. Ah, well, gimme the rock back. I wanna keep it.”

He handed it back to her, but he looked unimpressed. “Sure, here. I don’t even know what you do with all that worthless trash you find.”

She scoffed and dropped the crystal into her string bag. “Hey, I am an _avid collector_ of worthless trash. Like you.”

He sighed, but turned to meet her eyes. “Well, considering how much garbage you spew, it’s only reasonable to find trash beside the bin.”

Grinning, Melanie clapped him on the back. “Shut up. Anyways, back to the conversation. You said you were looking for me? Where’ s Elie?”

William, who had grown a weak smile, gestured her to follow him, and they began walking back up to the front. “I left her at the front with Henry. We were both surprised to find him here, and Elie wanted to relay when we talked about at club. She’s also really upset about Dragonhome, but I hope she doesn’t bring it up.”

Considering how blunt her sister is, Melanie wouldn’t be surprised if she did.

“Anyways,” he continued. “Eileen wanted me to bring her to you instead of going home.”

“Eh? Why would she want that? Doesn’t she have homework to do?” Her sister always had homework thanks to all the college- preparation programs she signed up to. She’s more devoted to getting into a university than Melanie is, which doesn’t bother her much since it keeps her busy.

He sighed. “The weather. She’s getting worried, and you’re better at handling her problem than I am.”

At that moment, a loud _plunk_ sounded above them, and the pattering curtain of rain descended upon the earth. Melanie frowned, and the two reentered the main room. Somewhere, Theresa has conjured a bench _or was that a base of a shelf_ and was sitting by the window, the curtain shifted where she could watch the world outside. Meanwhile, Henry and Melissa sat on the floor, their backs to the front counter, as they chatted with a new guest, who sat across from them.

Eileen Karras had a similar skin tone and facial structure as her older sister, but she was far shorter and had softer features. Contrasting Melanie’s black hair, she had wavy hair that shone like gold, gently flowing just past her shoulders. Her analyzing brown eyes were mellowed by her thick, round glasses. Today, she dressed in a plain yellow tunic dress and brown leggings, and her dandelion backpack was being hugged in her lap as she was babbling to the individuals sitting in front of her

“What are you losers doing?” Melanie asked, crossing to the group. She flopped down on the cold wooden floor next to her sister while William went to her other side and sat down in a more dignified manner.

Eileen, who beamed upon their arrival, stated cheerily, “We’re discussing which dinosaur would defeat the other: a Stygimoloch or a Pachycephalosaurus. It’s difficult to find a conclusion.” By the flowery chime of her voice, it sounded that she was enjoying their little debate.

Henry asserted “I say that the Pachycephalosaurus would win, but Eileen has more faith in the Stygimoloch.”

William frowned at Eileen. “Did you really have to bring the argument over here too?” _Apparently, the history club is actually the dinosaur club,_ Melanie thought humorously.

“It’s bad to leave a voice out.” She replied in a matter-of-fact voice.

Henry looked over to Lissa. “What do you think?”

“Ehh, the spikes seem like a pretty good deal, but defense is pretty important, and the Pachy can use it’s head offensively too. ” She shrugs. “I don’t know. I just like Velociraptors.”

“You only like them because of _Jurassic World!”_ Claimed Theresa from the other side of the room. The stepsisters appear to be offended by everything the other says.

Lissa pouted. “But my raptor squad!”

Theresa ignored her and turned to Melanie. “Ey, Shady, did you find him? The backroom is empty.”

She shook her head. “Nada. Must’ve gone somewhere.”

Before the other could reply, a deep rumble rippled through the air, and the sky cracked with a bright flash of light. Reflexively, Melanie threw her arm around the shoulders of her sister and pulled her close. Eileen had stiffened from the sound, losing her grip on her bag and letting it fall to the floor, and gladly accepted refuge in her sibling’s protection. The audience appeared confused by the girl’s sudden inactivity, but, if they had any questions, they were waved away by William.

“Astraphobia. Don’t talk about it.” He said bluntly, and the dinosaur discussion was over.

Fear of thunder, out of all things. For all the maturity her sister prided herself in, Eileen happened to have one of the most childish phobias in the book, and she knows it. The sound still shocks her into panic, though, freezing her like a deer in the headlights of a speeding car. She had the fear ever since she was a little girl, and it was up to her strong older sibling to protect the tear-gushing child from the loud, scary noises.

Eventually, the thunder took another crack, but at the exact moment when the door decided to swing open to let in four more newcomers.

First, the small pink girl from morning stepped in, and her eyes widened on noticing the assembly in the building. She speedily got shoved along by a frantic Akira, quick to get out of the rain, who was also dragging Richard by his arm. Behind him was Alan, holding an umbrella over the party, cheerfully moving them along and out of the weather. To Melanie’s bewilderment, despite not using the umbrella for himself, Alan was completely dry.

Akira, after catching her breath, spoke first. “Oh, so we weren’t the only people kidnapped. Hey everyone!” Her greeting was replied by a few shallow waves and hellos, and then she noticed the wreckage pushed to the walls. “Oh, so that’s what they meant about the mess.” Curious, she released Richard and made her way to the piles. The boy only grunted when she left and, as Melanie noted, continued looking down at the phone in his hands. She had no idea what was on the device that was so fascinating.

“Aw, sweet! So we _didn’t_ miss out on getting everyone!” Alan exclaimed as he surveyed the room while closing the umbrella at the door. He then handed it to the pink girl, who Melanie still didn’t know the name of. She then cautiously went around the crowd to slip away into the backroom. “Henry! You exist! That’s awesome! Take care of him, Lissa. Will, it’s good to know that you’re going outside! Aaaand… uhh… I don’t remember the names of you two… yeah sorry about that. I’ll learn them, though! Great to see you. Aye, Theresa-”

Theresa immediately stood up from her bench and walked in the opposite direction. “Nope, not talking to you. Bye.” She sits down on top of the counter on the other side of Henry. “Find someone else to chat with.”

He raised his hands innocently. “I already got the message. Ace. Got it. Just wanna say hi. Friendship is a good thing, you know? ...Right, moving on.” He sat down on the abandoned ‘bench’ and retreated to his cellphone. Richard joined him while Akira went and poked around the damage.

Lissa looked at her stepsister incredulously. “Wait, did he flirted with _you_ , out of all people?” She hissed.

“I know, right? I don’t know what his type is.” Theresa rolled her eyes. “At least the noodle knows how to take a rejection.”

At that moment, the pink girl returned, and Melanie became conscious of how many people there were in the room. _Ten._ She wasn’t fond of crowds; things became harder to keep track of. She twisted her head to face William, who looked at her back. Her eyes flickered to Eileen, and then to the windows. They were covered, but it brought to attention to the quieting weather, resulting in him nodding.

He moved to the discarded yellow backpack and pulled out a grey hooded coat. Melanie retracted her arm and stood up, and William wrapped the jacket around Eileen, throwing the hood over her head and putting a solid hand on her shoulder. They didn’t want her to bolt if the thunder decided to strike again. If they were at home, then Melanie could’ve thrown a blanket over her head, but they had no such thing at the time, so the coat would have to do. It seems to have, what she likes to call it, a ‘bird cage’ effect, keeping the unhinged sister slightly more stable and quiet, if just for a little while.

She looked around the room, and decided that the most strategical place to stay was by the door, on the wall side, where she could look over the rest of the store. She went to a shelf and selected a few wide boards intact enough to hold two people, since there weren’t enough for three. She was actually handed a few pieces by Akira, who Melanie paid little mind to and only mumbled an automatic thanks.

Deciding that she had enough reasonable pieces, she went to the corner to construct them into an impromptu bench. She wasn’t very good at crafting or building, so it was more of just a stack of wood, but it’s better than nothing. William pulled Eileen over to the bench and seated her down, and Melanie herself sat down beside her, restoring her arm’s place around her. William, seeming unoffended by his lack of seating, placed himself at their foot.

Meanwhile, the pink girl has erected a proper sign on the glass of the window, labeling the store as closed to the outside madness. There was a strange, audible clicking coming from the backroom, and the door opened to reveal the grandfather. _I thought the back was clear,_ Melanie thought confusedly. She promptly gave him her best disapproval face she could muster. If he saw her or any of the mystified faces around the room, he ignored them.

“Hello, everyone. I’m sorry you’re all here this afternoon instead of home, so I’ll try to keep this quick. I recommend you all find a seat and make yourselves comfortable, because what I’d like to say may sound very strange, but I will not lie to any of you. I’m sure some of you have questions of your own, which I will address, but please wait until after I finish.”

Oddly enough, Alan decided not to stick around and left the store without the umbrella, disappearing into the fog building outside, while the girl in pink took a seat at the opposite edge of the counter from where Theresa was. Akira, who returned from her browsing, and replaced Alan on the bench. She plucked the phone out of Richard’s hands, much to his dismay, and nagged him about “respecting his elders”, or something humorously hypocritical like that. Castor moved himself from behind the counter to the right, where everyone in the room could see him.

He began rambling into a long, elaborate story about religion, wars, and food, along with something roughly equal to a “back in my day” monologue. Appropriately, Melanie chose to ignore it and spaced out while only pretending to pay attention.

She could still hear the rain pouring from outside, the crackling of the clouds softening to a barely audible purr. She wasn’t sure how long the storm would last, but, hopefully, it would clear up by the time her business here was over. She’d rather not go out in the rain, but she will if she had to.

Eileen, unlike her older sister, appeared to be actually listening to the man’s speech, which may have been a good choice of a distraction from the noise outside. Her face seemed thoughtful while consuming the information, which almost made Melanie reconsider her distribution of attention. Almost.

She wasn’t particularly good at tracking time, but she guessed that the story lasted at least over twenty minutes, as she almost fell asleep from the rhythmic patter on the windows. Melanie noticed a shift in tone, marking that he was coming to a conclusion. As the man wrapped up his tale, he started coughing, and was quickly handed a glass of water by the pink girl. With consideration, she noticed both of them dressed similarly, particularly their choice of scarves, jackets, and eyeglasses. Melanie only recalled Castor mentioning a grandson, however.

Recovering from his fit, he gave back the glass and finally asked, “Does anybody have any questions or comments?”

There was a brief, awkward silence. Eyes darted between each person, unsure of how to respond.

“That. Is. _Insane!”_

All eyes turned to Akira, who had weighed herself forward and had an arm raised as if she was trying to grasp any straw of logic in the situation. They expecting to find sign of regret or embarrassment in her breaking outburst. Instead, they were only met with the resistance and bewilderment only a rational person could have.

That was the spark that lit the powder keg.

“What happened to ‘respecting your elders’, huh?” Richard commented aside, a hint of amusement tracing his voice.

“Uh, mister, are you… okay?” Theresa said cautiously. “Like, are you on something…? Or did you read some new book…? I mean, that was pretty good story and all, but… what the fuck?”

“Well, I’m convinced!” Despite just meeting her, Melanie wasn’t surprised that Lissa took the, apparently, outrageous monologue to heart. “If I can work to save Earth from pollution, then I can save it from demons too!”

“Actually, the Shade is not a demon.” Corrected the pink girl. “It’s more of an _extraterrestrial eldritch abomination._ Very different.”

“That story cannot be real. It’s too fantastical!” Akira had gotten to her feet. “Dragons? Magic? ‘Eldritch Abomination?’ Who do you think we are? I know my ma told me to respect my elders, I kinda say that sometimes too, for irony, but _really?_ Sorry, sir, but I can’t work with this.” Richard simply grunted to voice his agreement, seeing that there’s nothing else to say. He had been handed back his phone.

 _Well, that’s quite the range of topics… This story of his does sound pretty unrealistic,_ Melanie thought as she gathered together the bits of complaints.

William kept his speech steady but hesitant. Even though the majority rejected the story, it appears that he _actually considering otherwise._ “Despite my better judgement, I don’t have a solid opinion on it.” He looked to Melanie, who just gave him her best shrug. _Not like I know anything._

He turned towards the counter instead. “Henry? You haven’t said anything.”

Henry did not answer. The giant was steadily stroking his face, hands tracing the unshaven hair as he sat deep in his thoughts. The little movement assured the party that he wasn’t losing himself, but he remained silent in his contemplation. It was wordlessly agreed to leave him alone.

Eileen piped in. “I don’t know why, but I can trust this story.” Melanie was surprised at her sister’s acceptance, and the latter must’ve noticed because she continued. “I find no reason for Mr. Castor to lie. I think he’s telling the truth.”

Lissa cheered and laughed at her stepsister’s face. It became clearer that she was more concerned about besting her sibling than the actual topic. “Ha! Another point for… for… uh… dragons! Yeah!”

Theresa loudly whispered towards Melanie, arguably alluding to stealth. “I thought you said she was supposed to be the smart one.”

“I said she was _smart,_ not _sane.”_ She hissed back.

Eileen huffed. “I _am_ sane, thank you very much. And I have a perfectly reasonable argument.”

“Aaaaand here we go.” Melanie groaned. Her sister had an odd love for talking with people, sharing ideas, and doing research, and would go on lengths and lengths of dialogue to prove her points. Melanie couldn’t figure out what the appeal was.

Sure enough, Eileen cleared her throat and made a long speech that, thankfully, includes a summary of the story that Castor told. It was as ludicrous as everyone else made it to be, though she couldn’t help but find a sense of familiarity in the tale, as if she were forgetting something.

_Oh yes, where did the shop owner go?_

Melanie looked around to find that he had disappeared from the room. She assumed it was to get away from any possible aggression, considering how everyone were of varying degrees agitated or misplaced, and he was very breakable, but Melanie still wants that chessboard. She wasn’t even sure if she was going to sell it. It was _calling_ to her. She was positive, and she couldn’t care less about the whole dragon ordeal.

Eileen was usually very good at keeping people at bay. Throughout her sister’s discussion, others have inserted their own observations, changing the scene into a _relatively_ completely civilized debate. Eileen, Lissa, and that girl Melanie needed to get the name of later were pro- story. Theresa, Akira, and Richard were against it. William preferred to stay out of the discussion while Henry remained idle. Melanie hadn’t said anything herself, considering her lack of interest in the matter, but it was obvious to her that Eileen was grasping at straws. There simply weren’t many solid facts to work with and she could only work with emotional and ethical appeals. At least she was trying her best to hold a solid argument, and, if Melanie looks close enough, is actually _enjoying_ it.

That is, until somebody, she wasn’t sure who then, _had_ to say “Don’t be an idiot.”

Eileen’s face turned pink. Lifting her chin, she put her hands on her hips and proudly announced to the room. “Excuse you, but _never_ call me that!” she said, placing a splayed hand on her chest. “I am Eileen Karras, tenth grade! Currently ranking number one in all of the sophomore class, I am far from an _idiot_. And-”

“Wait,” Richard snapped abruptly, dropping his phone onto the bench and stood up. “That was _you?”_

She flashed him a smug smile. Her vanity, at that moment, was brighter than a supernova. “Indeed I am! And you… you’re Richard Price, right? You’re in a few of my classes-”

He shoved his hand into his pocket. “Yes, that’s me,” He whipped out a folded piece of paper. “and, for your information, _I_ am ranking number two in the class.”

A long _‘ohhh’_ rang through the room. Theresa mouthed _‘nerd fight’_ , and Akira facepalmed. Melanie, who was generally relaxed when it comes to her grades, was surprised that he was still thinking about that. After all, it was just a stupid number.

Eileen’s eyes widened while Richard’s slimmed, and he took a step closer. “That is despite I’ve achieved far more than any ordinary person had.”

“Really? I don't believe _I’m_ particularly ordinary.” She boasted smugly. “Care to compare?”

He claimed coldly, “For one, I’ve singularly designed the Tempest Lancer, the most popular internet browser of this century.”

“Is that so?” The blonde replied, and raised her eyes to meet his. He was only a few inches taller than her. “I don’t recall your name being credited anywhere… but _I_ have been recognized by the Duke University, certificates, medals, and all!”

“Some accomplishment.” He scoffed. “So have I. Duke isn't even impressive anymore, and I already completed the SAT back in seventh grade.”

“I did as well, but I’m _sure_ you didn’t get a perfect1600.” Her voice oozed arrogance, and Melanie was compelled to bop her on the head. The stepsisters on the side made a long _‘ooooh’._ Richard, however initially irritated, gave her a surprising smirk of his own.

“I suppose I didn’t, but what about the ACT? Surely, someone of your intelligence could’ve landed a _solid_ 36\. After all, _I did.”_ Her sister made a small gasp. Melanie heard Lissa hiss _‘I haven’t even had the PSAT’_ and Theresa say _‘I can’t believe it: actual nerd fight.’_ Melanie hushed the peanut gallery because she wanted to watch.

Soon enough, the two began to verbally spar, mark after mark, stat after stat, gold after gold. Forgetting about propriety and the original topic, simple boasts of past deeds became bellows of building dominance. There was an energy in the air that spurred action, and the two sophomores had eventually marched directly in front of each other, literally screaming into each other's faces. Students on the sidelines had also began yelling, either jabbing at contradictions or badgering them on. Melanie herself threw in some feats her little sister made just to poke at Richard, and even William and Henry couldn’t resist temptation to mention. The only person unaffected by the electricity appeared to be the unnamed girl, who looked on at the situation confusedly.

Eileen was never quite the type of aggression. She favored brains over brawn, and she spent most of her time exercising her mind over her muscles. Melanie occasionally worries about her since, in spite of her eagerness to be active, she normally cows under the threat of violence, making her very easy to push around. However, nobody seemed to be acting correctly this afternoon, as, after one wrong statement Melanie couldn't catch, her sister raised her arm and graced her competitor's right cheek with the swinging back of her hand.

A blink of silence ensued, and then the volume picked right up again, louder than ever. Melanie could hardly think. Eileen looked shocked, staring down at her hand in disbelief, and she took a step back.

“Ohhh, boy just got _bitchslapped!”_ Howled Theresa, and, together with equally hysterical Lissa and Akira, they developed into chanting “Fight! Fight! Fight!”

Before anyone knew it or could respond, Richard had already winded back his own right arm, fist clenched, and swung. However, his fist was surprisingly intercepted by the pink girl, who had suddenly appeared between the two parties. Her left hand, somehow strong enough to halt the momentum, gripped the older boy’s, holding it hostage, and she looked up at him through blank eyes.

“Could you please _not?_ I live here, you know. Thanks.”

Richard pointed at Eileen with his other hand. “She started it!”

The pink girl, not identified as a Castor, gestured to the surroundings. “There’s too much _blue_ in the air. I think you need to calm down.” She turned slightly to look at the blonde behind her. “You should too.”

Both of them looked at her with quizzical expressions, as if she had suddenly started speaking French. She didn't seem not notice their incredulous looks, and continue to blink at them unimpressed. Melanie now isn't sure now whether or not the kid was brave or an idiot.

Before the situation could escalate any further, a loud honk came from outside, shocking everyone out of the reverie. Richard immediately retracted his hand and treaded towards the door. Melanie took this chance to drag her sister back to the counter, sitting the little girl on the top with a huff. She found it surprisingly hard to move, and her clothes are suddenly charged with static electricity, sticking to her sides.

“Hino, you coming or what?” He spat before recalling his poise, clearing his throat and glancing at his friend sheepishly. He plucked his phone from the bench and slid it into a pocket.

Akira’s eyes flickered towards the sisters, then at the rain outside, which had lightened considerably.

“I’ll stick around a little longer. Still a bit too wet out there for my tastes. Plus, there’s a surprisingly good _view_ here.” She said shiftily before chuckling to herself. He scrunched his eyebrows together before sighing with a shrug of his shoulders. He cracked open the door and slipped outside, disappearing into the fog. Only the diminishing glow of headlights and the fading rumble of tires against asphalt signalling his departure.

With his exit, he took all the tension in the room, and nobody could remember why they were so angry or stimulated. Lissa waved over Henry to show him something on her phone while Theresa occupied herself with her own device. William had stood from his position and moved over to the counter, reaching out his hand lightly slap Eileen on the cheek.

“No, bad El. No fighting.” He scolded her.

She pouted childishly. “We weren’t fighting, it was… an aggressive debate.” Upon his skeptical look, she looked away. “Well… he started it!” He slapped her again, which lead to more pouting. “Okay, _maybe_ I did.”

“Don’t be so grouchy about it.” Melanie patted her on the back and smiled. “A little conflict is healthy! It’s good to know that my baby sister is growing a spine.” Eileen gawked indignantly, which Melanie responded by nodding solemnly and more patting, a shit-eating grin gracing her face.

“Shut up. I’m sure you just wanted someone to put him in his place." William snipped, but, secretly, he was also glad the girl was more willing to put up a fight. In addition, he had no right to admonish her because he was _also_ sucked into the hysteria and had his fair share of calling.

Eileen tugged at her hair in distress. "Eek, but I could barely think! I had _hit_ him! Agh, I looked like an idiot."

"You're fine, and nobody seemed to be thinking straight at the time," William comforted. "It's obvious you've made a name for yourself out there and you're at the top of America-"

"But- but I haven't done _anything!"_ She shrilled. " He- he made all those... _things!_ The program... the phone... the... the code?" She blinked before angrily slamming her fists against her thighs. "He _did_ things, and I... _I just look good on paper!"_

Melanie scoffed. "Bullshit, you are not just words on paper. It's not like we have access to all that fancy-shmancy technology he does. Unlike him, you worked up from nothing. You got all those academic whatchamacallits because you studied day and night to get where you are now with no help." She wrapped her arms around waist and gave her a tight hug. "Hun, don't let a single stupid cloud ruin everything. You are going to _burn_ a spot in history whether anybody wants you to or not, just you wait. We will have _everything_ in our hands soon enough."

She sighed and leaned back to rest her head on her sister's shoulder. She was trying to drag herself out of her hole. "Alright, alright. I should stay positive. Hmm..." Eileen remained quiet before perking up. "Oh yeah, I have an English paper to finish. I should do that now while we're still stuck indoors." She nudged herself out of Melanie's grasp and hopped off of the counter to retrieve her bag.

William gave Melanie a skeptical look. She returned with a scowl. "Don't judge. I can be unsarcastic, sometimes."

"'Sometimes.'"

_"Sometimes."_

"Hey everyone!" Theresa shouted. Turning their heads, they found her standing by the pink girl beside the counter, who was looking extremely confused. The biker was pointing down at her. "What gender do you think this person is?"

"Uh, female?" Akira, still on the bench, replied warily, squinting at the figure. Something about the question was making her doubtful.

"Like, a really cute girl." Lissa specified. "Tiny cinnamon roll."

"I hadn't really thought about it. You're... a freshman, right? I haven't met too many." Henry asked.

Their face flushed pale and squeaked a shuddering “W-what?”

Magically appearing by them from wherever he had disappeared to, Castor clapped his hands together. “Now now, everyone. I sincerely apologize for expecting everyone to know each other and to be able to get along. This is my _grandson_ , Sirius.” He gently patted the the poor boy’s shoulder, who was shocked stiff. “I did not realize it wasn’t obvious.”

“Y-yeah! I knew that… no, sorry. I didn’t. Oops.” Eileen murmured embarrassedly.

Henry gave him a sad but sympathetic smile. “Never judge a book by it’s cover, huh?”

Akira cursed under her breath. “I did not expect that. Sorry, man.”

“I am so glad I did not say anything.” William admitted quietly to Melanie.

“Whoa whoa, wait, what, wait, who what how?” Lissa freaked out. “But you’re too cute to be a guy. I mean, boys can be cute too, but you- you’re _too_ cute! How can you do that?”

“C-cute?” Sirius cried, barely audible. Blood managed to find its way back to his complexion, and he looked like he could faint.

She continued, ignoring his distress. “What are your secrets? I want to be as cute like that too! Ack- Alan really scored this time around.”

“I- I… wait, secrets? Score? Wait wait-” He blinked repeatedly in quick succession before he exploded. “I am _not_ cute! And Alan is just a friend.”

“What? I totally thought you two were a unit already! I mean, everyone already knows that Alan broke up with his last girlfriend last week. Over text! That’s totally the move of someone who needs to move on, like, fast. And he’s been seen with you a lot lately, so people, been assuming things. Of course, nobody really knows who you are, which is kinda weird since I remember that we share at least one class together, now that I think about it. And-” She coughed, and took a swig out a bottle of vitaminwater stashed in her bag. “Okay, as I was saying-”

“Nah, you said enough for today.” Theresa interrupted before returning to the window and gesturing towards the sky outside, which had turned into wisps layers of mist against a pink sunset. “Looks like the rain had cleared up. I’m getting out now before I suffocate on motormouth over there. See ya, peeps. Later, Shady.” She nonchalantly waved a hand at everyone before taking a step out the front door, but popped her head back into the room one more time. “I’ll need to get you a new nickname later,” she said to Melanie. “I can’t take it seriously anymore after that whole thingamajig.”

She left, leaving Lissa huffing but realizing that the sky was much darker than she expected. “Oooh, she makes me mad. I’m so getting her back home.” Lissa pecked Henry on the cheek and hopped to her feet. She announced, gleefully, “I’m leaving too. Take care, pumpkin! Don’t forget to eat! Bye everyone!”, and bounded out of the store.

Melanie looked at William. “The party’s dispersing. Don’t you have curfew or something?”

William looked at his wristwatch. “It’s actually only four.”

“Eh? It’s not that late.”

“It’s getting closer to winter, so the days are shortening. I should still get home before dark, though. Are you and Eileen going to get back okay?”

“Oh, don’t be a worrywart. We’ll be fine. Our mom told us last night that she’ll probably be returning home early today.”

He looked alarmed. “Is Penelope alright?”

“I’m sure she’s okay. Income has been getting better, so she’s laying off some jobs.” Melanie had no idea what was going on.

“Good,” William sighed. “Take care of her. Last time I saw her, she looked like a ghost.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Melanie stressed and thumped him on the back with her palm. “Now you get going. I’m staying here as long as Eileen is.”

He nodded and quietly left the store, the door closing with a soft click. Eileen had moved herself to the intact section of the store, most likely taking advantage of the table and chair at the end. Henry had knocked on the backroom door, which was answered by Castor, and was let in. Melanie wasn’t sure what the two were up to. Still standing beside the counter, Sirius was lost in his own world, recovering from Lissa’s badgering.

“We _probably_ should have asked what he was at the start. Though, I’m surprised nobody had said the mistake earlier,” said Akira, who had deposited herself on Melanie’s left. She was taking her in with glowing eyes and was radiating a surprising amount of heat. The girl flashed her a wide smile and stuck out a hand. “Hey, I’m Akira Hino, junior class president. It’s nice to meet you.”

Melanie raised a brow at the attention, and she reluctantly took her hand, hoping it wasn’t as bad as the one she received earlier. Her skeleton was still feeling it. “Melanie Karras. Sophomore... That’s it.”

Akira shook her hand firmly, much to her relief, but continued to beam brightly. “Nah, that’s fine. I’m sure there’s more to you than just school.” She winked. “Say, whatcha think about Mr. Castor’s story?”

She shrugged. “Meh. Wasn’t all that interesting.”

“I know, right? I don’t know what he’s thinking when he says this is actually history. We have enough science surrounding the creation of the planet, and it ain’t magic.”

“I guess.”

Her smile faltered. “Yeah, well… So, uh, the blonde girl, she is…?”

“Sister.”

“Ah. I can kinda see the resemblance now. Sorry about Price. He’s not the most... humble person.”

“He’s kind of a dick.” Melanie admitted.

Akira snickered. “Yes, he is. Boy has a fragile heart, ego the same. Though, he usually isn’t as irritable. If it were, even I couldn’t stand to be his friend. Speaking of friends, who was the guy who sat with you and your sister?”

“That was William Vinter. You probably don’t know him.”

“No, wait, I actually recognize that name. I see his name all the time when it comes to school art competitions. My friends in the art club talk about how he literally carries the team.”

“Oh yeah, that. I’m actually surprised that he entered competitions, considering how he hates showing people the things he made. He doesn’t really like his own stuff.”

“Really? From what I heard, the whole art class loves him. Is he your boyfriend?”

With that, Melanie couldn’t help but crack up. “Pfft, _no_. It’s funny how everyone thinks that, but _no_. We're just friends, though I _do_ love teasing him about it.”

Her mouth twitched. “Ah. By any chance are you an artist too? You look like you have really good hands for that.”

“Uh, what?” She asked quizzically. Melanie began to felt uncomfortable. _My hands?_ “Umm, I don't really do much, trust me on that.”

“Oh! That sounded really weird, didn't it?” Akira let out an awkward, apologetic laugh. “I just pay attention to details like that, among other things. Your hands look really... crafty? Like you play an instrument, maybe? I can't really find the right words.”

Not particularly willing to give out many details, she simply responded with a “Mmhmm…” and looked away.

The junior was about to ask her another question when a rush of cold air flooded the room as the front door swung wide open. Melanie made a mental note to start carrying a jacket for herself and scooted away.

“Hey guys! What’d I miss?” Alan asked as he walked into the store, a cup of coffee in hand. “Oh, half of our people left already. That’s cool. What’d I miss?”

Akira sent him an annoyed glare. “And you walk in two hours later with Starbucks.”

“This isn’t Starbucks! There isn't even a store in town.” He said, offended. “Have you heard about that new coffee place down on Boreal Road? Emberglow? Got this there. Nice smell, really good atmosphere; you should totally visit it later. I fell asleep at a table.”

“Good job.” She replied sarcastically. “Whatcha got?”

“Just a grande caramel macchiato, half-caf and extra whip. Considered getting some chocolate, but decided against it.” _I will never understand coffee orders._

Akira just nodded. “Ah. Maybe I’ll check it out later this week. Oh hey, maybe you should do something about our host over there.” She pointed towards the static boy standing to her left.

Alan walked over to Sirius and put his coffee on the counter. “Hey Pinky. Yoo hoo, hello?” He waved in front of the boy's face.

Sirius blinked and looked up, face morphed into horror. “Did you know nobody knew I was a guy?”

To their surprise, his response was a bombastic laugh. “See? I'm not the only one!”

“I’m still not over it!” The freshman cried. He received a pat on the head in his frustration.

“Hey! People make mistakes! Now they know!”

Sirius huffed. “Ugh- I am going home. I need a nap.”

“You _are_ home.” Alan pointed out.

“I _mean_ I am going up stairs. Don't follow me.” He specified with a huff and marched out of the store. He tried slamming the door, but it disagreed and mutedly closed itself on his way out.

After a moment, Akira said bluntly, “We _probably_ should’ve asked.”

Shrugging, Alan replied, “Yeah. He’ll be fine the next day, so don't worry about it. He’s adaptive like that, I guess. Just don’ t forget it again. Anyways,” he moved to take a gulp of his drink. “How was your daily dose of storytime?”

“The man says that it's history.”

Alan placed his drink back on the table. “Yes it is! Come on, I know you think that he’s crazy, but check this out. This isn't fake, by the way.” He stuck a hand in his pocket and pulled out a deflated cherry red balloon. “Don't ask me why I have this. Here, hold it.” He handed it to Akira.

The Asian held it in her palm. “Okay…”

“Yeah, hold it like that. It’s just so you know there are no tricks. Now, watch this, and don't freak out.” Before anyone could say anymore, Alan’s eyes flushed lime, and the balloon jumped in size.

“Shit!” Akira quickly dropped the balloon and swatted it away. It only moved a few inches before halting in midair, the mouth wide and the rubber stretched to the size of a volleyball.

Melanie squinted. _That can't be possible._ “The hell?” She tried to poke it, but the balloon floated away from her finger. “Fuck you.”

“Ta-da! Whatcha think? Magic!” Alan splayed his fingers in showy hands and a pearly grin.

Akira sat there, dumbfounded. “What. The. Fucking. Hell. It’s…” She struggled to find words, but she was utterly failing. “Just… _how?”_

“I said, _magic!_ We are _awesome_ and have _super cool sparkly shit_ like _whoa._ I can do fancy air stuff like Aang and Hay Lin and whatever-whoever.” He flicked the balloon with his left hand. and it sent itself rocketing through the room, deflating itself into the abyss of the shelves.

A distant feminine “ow” could be heard.

“Bullseye!” He cheered.

“How did you land a trick shot like that?” Melanie asked. There wasn't any way he could’ve known that Eileen was back there beforehand.

He waved his hand in circular motions. “Well, after I learned about the whole dragon ordeal, I started noticing how the air circulates in rooms and outside. Since air is never really still and it’s literally everywhere, I can get a good idea of where things are and the basic shape of stuff. I mean, the sense was always there, but it’s only now I actually noticed it.”

 _Huh. That was pretty lengthy._ “So, have you ever, uh, copped a feel with that?” She questioned jokingly. She received a thin smile from the older boy. It was strained.

“No, it doesn’t really work like that. It’s more of a mental thing, not tactile. I just… _know._ There isn’t any sort of science behind it, I think. I probably wouldn’t be able to do something like that.”

“If I had seen something like that earlier,” Akira gestured towards where the balloon disappeared to. “Then I totally would’ve been on the yes-squad.”

Henry and Castor picked this chance to reenter, the former holding a small linen bag. Alan hailed the old man. “I told you to do a demonstration! People are all ‘seeing is believing’ this century.”

“I already said I had spent nearly all my mana yesterday. I couldn’t pull anything today, and most likely for the rest of the week.”

Alan frowned. “We totally should’ve gotten Sirius to do something then.”

Akira looked at him. “What can he do?”

“I have no idea.” He admitted. “Some kind of pure magic of sorts. Not something I know.”

Castor sighed. “He is the Arcanist, deity of Arcane. Back in my age, we called it Spirit, and every mage could use it. I suppose it’s different for him due to his circumstances. Yesterday, he caused a lot of damage testing out what he could do.”

“Wait,” Akira looked alarmed. “Did he do all of that?” She directed towards the wooden and paper ruins.

“No. Well, yes, technically. Some of the damage was caused by a fragment of the Shade attempting to assassinate him and the fight that ensued. I had him and Alan, who was there, help clean up the mess, but they ended up causing more destruction through experimentation. Now I basically lost two thirds of my shelves and stock instead of, say, six or seven singular.”

Melanie, and all the other students, gave Alan a face that only could mean _“what the fuck.”_ He looked away and whistled innocently.

Henry cleared his throat. “Well then, should I assume that Alan tried his hand at convincing you all about the dragons?”

“Aw man, you should’ve seen it!” Akira said enthusiastically. “He got out this balloon and inflated it instantly in my hand, and then he managed to hit her sister in the head from the other end of the building like _what the hell.”_

“I thought you were the captain of Team No?”

“I was, but then I saw that, and now I’m like ‘why can’t I do shit like that too?’” She specified. Alan in the background grinned and crossed his arms proudly.

Henry grinned. “Welcome to the club. I’m here too.” Opening the sack he’s holding, he pulls out a small grey stone and hands it to her. “Here is your membership token.” He takes out several more and gives everyone one each and returns the bag to Castor. He held up one of his own. On it was a collection of three brown angles that formed a mountain range. Somehow, they glowed.

Turning her stone over, Melanie found that the stone had a shallow engraving in it resembling a crescent moon and a swirl. It radiated purple in her hand. She looked over at the others and found that they all had different markings of different colors.

“Neat,” said Eileen, who had reappeared, bag packed and hoodie worn properly. She was being shown Alan’s rock, which had a curly green equal sign that Melanie interpreted as gusts of wind.

Castor extracted another stone from the bag. “Here, Ms. Karras. You have a runestone as well.” He held out the stone in his palm, but Melanie plucked it up before her sister could.

“Hey!” She objected.

Melanie compared the two pieces. The second one had four yellow streaks, arranged to be similar to light rays. “Fancy.” Eileen reached to try to get her runestone, but Melanie just raised it higher. “Not now, I’m conducting business.”

“Mel!”

“I am the inspector of things you obtain.”

_“Mel!”_

“Fine fine, here, gosh.” She tossed it, allowing her sister to fumble a catch. “It doesn’t appear to be explosive, corrosive, or repulsive. What’d ya know?” She flipped her’s like a coin. It landed on “heads”, the marked side.

“These are ancient runestones bearing the emblems of the gods. I would’ve given them out when everyone was here, but my memory isn’t quite the same as it were,” explained Castor. “Pardon me, Alan, but what is the state of the Tide- Phineas, I mean?”

Alan laughed apologetically. “Yeah, about _that…_ ”

“Yes?”

“So I tried following the route right after I got Prez and Boss here, but I couldn’t actually make it very far without having to dodge lightning every few minutes.”

“Alan,” Castor said flatly. “I told you not to try flying again.”

“Even after I tried going the old-fashioned way- or is the new fashion way? Like-”

“Alan.”

“Yeah yeah, so the lightning was really bad. I just stopped trying after a few vehicle swaps, route switches, and dead calls. I don’t even know why he has to live all the way out of the main bounds.”

Akira scratched her head. “Is lightning not part of your kit or something? You have air-based powers, so…?”

“Apparently not. We have an entirely different god for that.” Alan thought for a moment and looked at the party. “Did you guys piss him off or something? I’m talking about Richard. That’s him. He’s Stormfletcher, or something like that.”

“Stormcatcher.” Castor corrected. Alan shrugged.

“No.” Melanie lied.

“Yes.” Eileen barely whispered, eyes aside.

“He’s always pissed about everything.” Akira pointed out.

“Well, yeah, but I mean, like, a _royal_ sort of pissed off. And now that I remember about it, he was in a really bad mood all day. What’s up with that?” Alan questioned.

“He was mostly worked up about his class rank.” Akira said, but frowned. “Then again, he had been a _lot_ crankier lately, even before he mentioned about asking for his rank. I don’t know what’s going on with him.”

“Maybe a home thing?” Alan suggested.

“Maybe.”

“Oh well. Anyways!” He shifted to a more cheery tone. “I’ll try to catch up with Phineas a different time. Maybe I can find somebody who can get me his number.”

“That’ll probably give off the wrong idea.” Melanie interjected. To that, Alan gave her an uncharacteristically loathing side glance.

A silence ensued, and Henry chose to take the moment to move the conversation along, “Actually, I could go see if I can persuade him to come here. I was offered temporary residence, and that’s what the papers say.” He looked down at his suddenly interesting hands. “I actually haven’t set foot in his residence the entire week. I should see to that. Uh, excuse me, everyone, and thank you.”

Akira, picking up the torch, jumped in. “Alright, you get to it, Henry. Good luck with it all!” He nodded to her and he left the building, careful to watch for stray rain.

The president spun around and slapped her hands onto the counter, gameface equipped. “Okay, everyone! To be completely honest, I still have _no_ idea what we’re talking about, but lets try our best anyways! Starters!” She directed her attention to the old man. “Exposition man! Who are we?”

Melanie assumed that Castor simply rolled with anything they say, because he doesn’t comment on being referred to as the “exposition man.”

“Akira Hino,” he avowed. “You stand as the deity of fire and the heat it produces, the Flamecaller.”

“Yeah!” She resounded, then glanced at her runestone, which had a stylized orange blaze on it. “You know what, I probably could’ ve guessed the element.”

“Eileen Karras, you are the divine crafter of color, the Lightweaver.”

“Ooh, that sounds really fancy!” Eileen marvelled. Melanie patted her on the head. She loved how small her little sister is.

“Melanie Karras, you, in contrast, represent the darkness and all it hides. You are the Shadowbinder. And that reminds me,” He stops to pull up a large paper bag from behind the counter. She knew exactly what was in it. “Here’s your order. I hope you find it to be as you remembered it to be.”

Melanie lifted the bag and was surprised on how light it actually was. Checking it, she looked inside and stuck a hand in. The board was also wrapped in white paper, but she could feel all the lumps and grooves through it. _It’s there, alright. Mission complete._

“Well then, I’m basically done here.” She announced nonchalantly and waved for Eileen as she walked for the door. “Come on, Elie. We’re running out of daylight.”

“But what about the divinity?” Eileen piped in complaint.

“It can wait! It’s been a few ages or something already. A day or two won’t make a difference. We’ll come back a different time, if you want. Just come on, Mom’s probably waiting.”

Melanie waltzed right out the door and onto the streets, not stopping for her sister. She knew that Eileen couldn’t stay behind with the sun setting and their mother home early. Sure enough, Melanie heard the clacking of sandals against concrete behind her. She mentally noted to pull out her winter shoes later.

“Wait!”

Melanie kept walking, but slightly slowed her pace. Eileen eventually caught up, but had difficulty due to the weighty pack on her back. When they came side-to-side, Melanie promptly handed her the paper bag and pulled the backpack from the younger’s shoulders. She was stronger than Eileen, though not by much.

“You should probably start carrying less in that bag of yours. Throw out a textbook or two, an assignment or some. It’s not like they matter all that much.” Melanie teased. There were always at least three more books in that bag than Melanie kept in her own string.

“Oh, quiet.” She whined. “You are a terrible influence.”

“I know, I know. Just let me be the irresponsible sibling, would you?”

Sighing, Eileen latched onto the paper bag. She wasn’t sure what was inside it, but Melanie was positive any curiosity could wait until they got home.

The air was still humid from the rain, and it reeked of wet leaves and decomposing wood. Careful to avoid puddles, the sisters hurried their way from the relatively organized central to the unnoticed skirts of town, hoping to escape the creeping chill and any eyes as night descended with the fading sun.

* * *

They knew they were getting closer to home when the roads began to tangle themselves between the empty buildings and elderly trees whose overgrown roots broke through the unmaintained pavement as easily as nails puncturing soaked tissue paper. Even though every candidate in every Sworncliff election say they’ll do something to fix the impoverished areas of town, nothing ever changes. Anybody who lived outside the area would get lost in the winding excuses of streets, but Melanie could navigate them like the back of her hand. Eileen only knew basic routes, but that’s far better than nothing.

A new shadow formed in the near darkness, and a sense tapped Melanie’s mind as she felt the familiar presence in the area. Stopping in front of an alleyway, she abruptly whirled around to face her sister.

“Hey, follow me. I know a shortcut to our house. I found it a few days ago.”

Eileen was wary. “Really? We really shouldn’t be taking shortcuts at this time.” The sky was a deep purple. Any more wasted time and the streets would turn black, who knows what stalks the streets at such time.

“Trust me,” she coaxed. “As long as you stick with me, you’re completely safe. Take my hand and let’s go.”

Cautiously, Eileen wrapped her hand around hers, and Melanie tugged her down the passage. The buildings that formed the path were all dark, and her sister quietly complained that she couldn’t see a thing. Melanie, however, hushed her and continue slogging along. She could see just fine; her night vision was far better than anyone she had ever known.

The walls around them were damp, dusty, and uncomfortably close, but, soon enough, they made it out onto Wispwillow Road. A few meters away stood a short, nondescript house with white panel walls and a low roof. The windows were thinly curtained, and they could see a dim yellow light glow from behind the glass. Eileen, glad with the sight, quickly made it up to the two-step porch and made her way indoors, leaving Melanie alone at the chainlink fence that separated the residence from the street. From the alley behind her, she heard heavy, intentional footsteps.

“Carrie.” Spoke a smooth, bass voice. A tall, hooded figure emerged from the backstreet. He stood at least a head taller than Melanie, but most of his body was covered under a long kevlar jacket, a pair of weighty military boots, and a blood red muffler that struck out among the black. What little skin that could be seen was on his face, a battered tan tone that only the sun could achieve.

“Spitfire.” She replied and faced him. They never referred to each other with their real names; they don’t even know. Instead, they always have known each other by an alias, as do all who fiddle in the Sworncliff-Reedcleft underground do. It's a trademark of the Forum.

They stared at each other in silence, her violet eyes meeting his auburn. “Maybe you should’ve worn a different scarf? It’s like a target against your heart.”

He let out a short chuckle. “I felt like wearing red today. Perhaps you should’ve worn a different shirt today? With cuts like those, I’m surprised your arms haven’t fallen off.”

“Hey, I wear what I can get.” Melanie objected. Eileen worked part-time at a clothing and tailoring store, so she usually can get certain things with prices off, a boon to the financially attentive family. “Anyways, what’s going on?”

The man resumed his initial serious air. “Did you get it?”

She nodded and shedded both packs she was carrying on her to pulled out the wrapped chimera statuette. Spitfire stepped forward and reached out an arm. Melanie dropped the packaged into his gloved hand, and he backed up, stashing the item in some hidden pocket in his coat.

“Expect results by the end of the week.” He turned on his heel and began to stride back into the alley. “You know where to find me.” Melanie nodded, and he departed into the darkness, which had significantly less dramatic impact because she can still see him walking away, turned at a slight angle so he’ll be able to fit through the thin passage. Picking up all her items, she silently slid into her house, shutting and locking the door behind her.

The entire ground floor was basically a single room that could be seen from the entrance. The majority of the room was carpeted in a rough brown carpet, and furnishing consisted in a coffee table, a few shelves and cupboards, an old blue couch, and a boxy CRT television directly across from it. The kitchen was separated from the rest by an island countertop and a sliver of plain off-white tiles that covered solely a meter wide space between the wall counters and the island. There were only two doors other than the entry, a coat closet and a restroom, and steep, creaky stairs were on the side that lead to the loft. All the lights were off save a single floor lamp that basked the room in a dim glow.

Three plastic stools were placed around the counter, one of them had the paper bag in it. The other two were currently being sat in by Eileen and their mother.

Penelope Karras was a lovely lady. Soft olive skin, shiny dark brown hair cut into a wavy bob, and sweet honey eyes that could rival the warmth of any hearth, it horrified the sisters that anyone could find her subpar to anyone. However, their mother couldn’t see what they could, for all the hate, all the slander, and all the lies that clobbered her from fame, fortune, and friends killed any beauty she saw in herself. All that was left of the aspiring, ambitious fashion model was a fragile ghost that worked odd jobs day and night to provide for herself and daughters alone. Tonight, she was in her nightclothes, nursing a glass of water after taking her antidepressants. Eileen was telling her about how school was. Melanie tossed the backpacks onto the coffee table and joined them at the counter.

“Mom.” She greeted her mother. She moved the paper bag onto the tabletop and sat down. Penelope gazed at Melanie with straining eyes, baggy from lack of sleep. It was rare she could ever look directly at her eldest daughter’s face.

“Melanie,” said her quiet voice. It sounded distant, as if her mind was elsewhere. “Are you alright? Has school been okay?”

“Everything is fine, Mom. You don't need to worry about it.”

“Yeah, we’ve been doing well,” added Eileen, hoping to sound uplifting. “I managed to land a spot as the Sophomore treasurer, and I'm currently ranking number one in class rank.”

Mom yawned and rubbed at her eyes. “That’s good. That’s... very good.” Her words were slow and littered with pauses “I… have such great daughters. I'm so... proud of both of you.”

Melanie placed a hand on her shoulder. “What's happening, Mom?”

“I... Rylan laid me off, so I don't have a stable job until I can find another. I'm so sorry, I thought I was doing so well holding that one...”

“No, Mom,” reassured Eileen. “Don't be sorry. It’s okay. We have enough money for now. You should rest.”

“That’s right.” Melanie eyed her paper bag. “Besides, I think our fortunes are changing for the  better.”

They both looked at her confusedly, and Melanie pulled out the wrapped object in the bag. Unwrapping it, there on their laminated counter laid the black wood chess board in all its glory, the blue jewels glittering brightly. Eileen gasped and touched the little sculpted mushrooms while their mother sat there speechless.

“Wow, it’s so pretty!” Eileen said in amazement. Melanie agreed, and she still was impressed by its make.

“Melanie, where did you get this?” Mom asked, her hushed voice laced with suspicion. Unlike her sister, their mother knew _exactly_ what Melanie does outside of school. The money for all those books and bills had to come from _somewhere._

“I did a big favor for Old Man Castor, so he gave me this treasure in return. What’d you think?”

“It’s gorgeous.” Mom traced her dainty fingers across the checkered surface. “It’s a one-of-a-kind, that's for sure. What do you think this could bring us?”

She hadn't thought about the exact price. In fact, she hadn't even come up with a range. Something about the board made her want to keep it. _Considering the dragon magic, perhaps there is something special about it._

“It's going to bring us big. I know it.” She then touched the board herself, and, from her fingers, she saw the board light up purple in every crack and crevice. A violet outline of the Shadow rune flashed in the center, and, just as quickly as it appeared, everything vanished to its original state.

Melanie blinked and looked back up to the two beside her. They weren't paying attention to her, still examining the board as if nothing happened.

 _Was I the only one who saw that?_ Melanie wondered. If so, the family wasn't asking any questions, so she decided to let the event slide. She began to wrap the board back up.

“I should stash this somewhere. Elie, it's late now. Go to bed.” She nudged. Her sister made a little groan, but pecked their mother on the cheek and complied.

“Good night, Mom. Night, Mel.”

Their mom kissed her back. “Good night, Eileen.”

Eileen departed from the kitchen and entered the restroom to freshen, leaving Melanie and their mother alone.

“I didn't realize that Mr. Castor had anything like that,” said Mom, referring to the board.

“Mr. Castor apparently has a lot of things we don't know about.” She suddenly remembered about the runestone she gave her. After placing the board back in, she dug around in the paper bag and found the rock behind some of the filler paper. She must have dropped it in after she left but forgot. Eileen may still be holding onto hers. Melanie wasn't sure.

“What’s that?”

Melanie turned to her mother and held up the little stone. “Another little trinket Castor gave to me, free of charge. Eileen has something like this too.”

“Ah, okay. Speaking of which…” Mom stood up from the stool and opened a drawer behind her. “Mr. Thomason gave me this. He told me that you want him to bring this to me.”

In her hands was a set of teardrop earrings laying in a silver velvet case. Peach moonstone, they were small and light, and Melanie lynched them from a jewelry box filled with similar pieces, so she’s sure nobody would lose any sleep over them. Or, at least, nobody she’d give a rat’s ass about would.

“Just a little bonus from a different employer of mine. Thought you might like them.”

“...Thank you, Melanie.” Penelope was very good at sensing the truth and false out of her children, especially from her trickster daughter Melanie. She wasn't particularly happy about her lifestyle, but it's not something she could help. And so, she became silent on the matter, knowing that her daughter only meant good from her thieving. “Go to sleep now too, would you?”

“Yes, Mom. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

After placing the earrings back into the drawer, Melanie received a kiss on the forehead, and her mother moved to the couch. Melanie took the paper bag and made her way upstairs to the sisters’ bedroom right under the roof. Eileen was still in the restroom, so Melanie sat down on her side of the room, on her unmade bed.

She took the gameboard back out of the bag and laid it on her lap and traced the woven wood design. Her fingers then moved in a familiar shape, and she placed the box on its side to realize that the roots were not a random design. In its twisting pattern, it formed the Shadow rune, a logo marking divine property. The board was hers all along.

Melanie laughed to herself, startling the two pet birds sitting in the cage hanging from a horizontal support. She got cheated out by trading a service for an item that was rightfully hers. Placing the board on her side table, she flopped backwards onto her pillow. She doesn't really care about hygiene as much as she should, so she closed her eyes and waited for the monochrome night to find her and whisk her away.

The only sounds in that house that night was the gentle run of water, the chirping of awakened avians, and snore of a slumbering spirit.


End file.
